Eternally Brothers
by InzanityFirez
Summary: Dean and Sam's relationship has taken a turn for the worst. Dean is once again a wanted man, Sam's powers are on the fritz, there's a vengeful spirit stalking them, and to top it off: Dean's been cursed.  Say 'hello' to little Dean.
1. The Weaving of Woe

**Whoot! So, I've seen a bunch of age-regression fics running around the Supernatural section and decided to try my hand at one. Due to work, I've fallen quite behind in the series, but I'm trying to catch up via reading online (*fail*) XD until I can actually watch it...so it might not be as super as it could be, but I'll try to keep true to the present-most storyline and such. I considered Little Sammy, because...way cute. Tough Dean babying his baby brother...but I decided on little Dean for the 'moral' of the story, as it were. Little Sammy might make an appearance though. We'll see. XD I also fancy the idea of Dean being stuck as a wolf for a bit, four-legged and fluffy...but we'll see on that too. XD **

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_"See you later, Lea!" A girl shouted across the street as she parted ways with her blonde-haired companion, Leayani. The latter of whom smiled and waved back before she headed along the sidewalk that would lead her to her dormitory. Overhead, the trees rustled a bit as they were picked up by a light breeze and she shivered a bit at the sudden chill down her spine._

_"Are you cold?"_

_Leayani froze and turned, but she found no one behind her and her brow furrowed as she tried to determine if she had imagined it or not. _

_"I'm always cold." The voice was female, it seemed, but she still couldn't place an origin. _

_"Who's there?" Leayani called, a bit nervous now as she took a few steps back. _

_A sudden feeling of frost erupted on her shoulder and she turned to see a pair of pinprick-red and yellow-white eyes gazing at her. _

_"So cold." the voice whispered as a black miasma enveloped Leayani, and when it passed, only her clothes remained. _

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** ******Supernatural********

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"Two doughnuts. The powder kind with the raspberry jelly." Dean ordered as beside him, Sam looked on with a disapproving frown.

"Dean! How can you be hungry at a time like this?"

"Easy. I just am." Dean replied like the grade A smart-ass that he was as he flashed Sam a faint, cheeky smirk before he took his doughnuts and sat down at a table where Sam reluctantly followed and sat as well.

In the previous town they'd faced off a centuries old banshee with a grudge against pretty women. You know, since she'd been murdered by her cheating husband for a pretty young thing. And in the midst of the case, Dean might have, slightly, _maybe_ blown up a building and gotten yet another warrant out for his arrest-or at least, a [handsome] male suspect driving a black Impala, had. But hey, you'd think that they'd be grateful after he'd rid them of their murderous ghoul.

"Dean..." Sam's voice was agitated. In his opinion, they weren't nearly far enough from the other town, and still Dean insisted on driving his Impala [which was already like a big red, or rather, black bullseye] and going out amongst people. Not to mention a shoulder wound that he'd sustained that Sam thought he should still be resting. But oh, no. Not Dean.

"Dun't worry, 'boutid, Smmy." Dean said through a mouthful of doughtnut before he swallowed. "I've got it covered."

Sam's gaze slid outside irritably and landed on two police cars as they pulled up alongside of the building, and right beside the Impala. "Covered, huh?" he growled and as Dean caught sight of them, he swallowed the rest of his second doughnut thickly before he shrugged.

"So what, they're not looking for me..." as the officers began to inspect his Impala, he cursed. "_Damnit_. I did _not _need this today."

"Oh, and I did?" Sam retorted.

"Nevermind, just get your ass outside. I'll meet you at the car." Dean instructed as he rose and started to head for the door.

"What are you gonna do?" Sam asked, and he glowered a bit when Dean shot him a glare and jerked a thumb in the direction of the back door before continuing his way out. He was tempted to follow and sock his brother's smirk off of his face, in a brotherly manner, of course. But this wasn't the time, unfortunately. "Asshole." he muttered, a small satisfaction as he headed for the back door, certain that his brother was going to get them into more trouble, yet again.

Ten minutes, six gunshots, two bruised officers, and one car chase later: Dean had gotten them into more trouble. Again.

"I hate you. You know that?" Sam looked agitatedly into the rearview where a small squadron of police cars were giving chase as Dean sped off in the Impala and through the empty stretch of road and woods that connected a series of small towns to a larger city about fifty miles off.

"Shut up, Sammy."

"Don't call me that."

"Call you what, _Sammy_?" Dean replied sweetly and Sam huffed and looked away.

Their relationship was on the rocks again. Dean was, if it were even possible, more reckless than ever and Sam felt like he was ready to explode. His emotions, once at least controllable, seemed to have taken a turn for the volatile. He found himself annoyed and angered by Dean without even meaning to be, but that didn't mean that it wasn't justified sometimes as well. Like now, for instance.

It wasn't until several hours later and some manuevering that would make a hardened drag racer proud that they'd completely [somehow] eluded the officers. The ride was silent for the rest of the way, save a spat over the radio that resulted in Dean childishly blasting some alternative rock just to bother Sam, who had a headache anyway.

"Quiet Oaks." Dean's voice finally broke the silence as he drove the Impala slowly into the small town before them. A large church, a cluster of shops and such, green-lawns and pristine houses...it was a piece of the good ole so-called 'American Dream'. "Quiet Oaks. Sounds like a retirement community. I was hoping for some beer and nice company, but at least it's quiet, I guess."

Sam was too annoyed and disgusted with his brother at the moment to respond. 'Beer and nice company'. Was that all Dean was about now? So much for saving the world and being a big bad hunter. He was just a regular booze-drinking, skirt-chaser these days...but if he was, wasn't that Sam's fault a bit?

Memories of his time without a soul flashed through his mind, memories of when he'd tried to strangle his own brother, memories of his Heaven...without his brother in it. Maybe Dean could sense the disloyalty in him, could sense that something was wrong inside of him...

And maybe he was giving the thick-headed Dean way too much credit.

"And look, there's a nice motel...it has that whole 'no-roaches' look going for it." Dean joked and when Sam didn't even look at him, he sighed. "How long you gonna be mad, Sam?" he was annoyed at his brother, but truth be told, he hated to fight with the other and hated to be at odds with him.

"I'm not mad." Sam muttered, and Dean lifted a brow as he shot the other a disbelieving look.

"Okay. Why are you pissed off?" Dean corrected as he pulled into the motel parking lot and parked the Impala before he settled back against the seat as he regarded his little brother. "It's not like I tried to get us into trouble. You know that."

"Yeah. I know. But that doesn't stop us from getting into trouble every. single. time." Sam emphasized his words.

"So that's why you're mad?"

"Just drop it, Dean." Sam said dismissively and Dean eyed his brother a moment before he shrugged as he exited the car and made his way for the check-in stand inside, soon followed by Sam.

Surprisingly enough, the motel was mostly full and the only room available was a less-used one in the back...that had only one bed.

"Dibs." Dean said simply as he tossed his bag onto it.

"And where am I supposed to sleep?"

"The floor? Outside? Hell, you can levitate, can't you? The possibilities are endless, Sammy." It was now Dean who was irritated, and that did nothing to ease Sam's own irritation.

"Stop calling me that, Dean." The name set him on edge when Dean said it, and he'd never known why. It was more than it being childish, it just...made him uncomfortable somehow.

"'That Dean?' Funny. I thought I called you 'Sammy'." Dean said with mock-incredulity before he smirked as Sam made an aggravated sound and stomped to the bathroom where he slammed the door.

"Asshole." Sam muttered again as outside the bathroom, Dean grumbled.

"Prick."

Meanwhile, outside, a sudden patch of frost cracked over the window of the left passenger door. It erupted in a white haze, as though someone had breathed against it and a word was written...although there was no hand to guide the marks...

'Cold'.

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**It might have been longer, but it's 4pm...I just got off work and am falling asleep in my chair and there's the midnight showing of Rise of the Planet of the Apes tonight...so I cut it short and am taking a nap. Maybe. XD P.S. In case you think the brothers are being quite hostile...THERE'S A REASON. Or something. XD Enjoy!~**


	2. The Fraying Bonds of Brotherhood

**Whoot! Two chapters in one night! I really want to get to little Dean. *sigh* I'm such a magick-fan. XD But don't worry. I don't intend to make him all out of character and...goopy. XD No nap, incidentally. More Supernatural anime. Which I have grown more fond of but still find lacking...and seriously, a giant robot? You know it's anime when there's a giant robot. I think it's cultural fetish. Ah well. XD Wincest=love. As for this story, well, I love brotherly love, and I love brothers who love each other, so I think I'll see how things play out/listen to review suggestions on whether or not there shall be any pairings. XD**

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"I'll have a cheeseburger, some fries, and a milkshake."

"What flavor?"

"Anything as sweet as you, lady." Dean said with a sly smile that wasn't well received by the waitress who jotted down without batting an eye-

"Prune. Got it." The woman turned and left before Dean could object and he slunked in his seat a bit.

"Some women got no sense of humor." Dean grumbled before his gaze slid to his silent brother across from him. Sam's gaze was pointedly out the window and he'd hardly said a word all morning. "Jeez, Sam. You act like somebody died."

Sam didn't reply and Dean frowned. "Hey. Sam. I'm talking to you. Earth to Sammy."

"Don't call me that." Sam muttered and Dean scowled.

"Oh, _now_ he speaks."

"I'm thinking, Dean."

"Oh? What about?"

Sam was silent a moment before he slid a paper across the table at Dean that he hadn't even noticed that his brother had had.

"Huh...Dodgers won 11-8...and Miss. America tripped on the runway...this is real good stuff here, Sammy..."

"Not there. _Here_." Sam pointed to an article.

Dean blinked and then read aloud via skimming. "Quiet Oaks Disappearances...four women all missing in the span of a month...only their clothes left behind...and at each scene, there's...snow or ice...? So...we dealing with Frosty-gone-bad here?"

Sam took the paper back irritably. "It's nothing to joke about, Dean. This is a quiet town. I asked a couple of people at the motel. Nothing like this has happened before."

"Asked around? When'd you do that?"

"While you were still sleeping in the bed." Sam said curtly, as he had slept on the floor.

Dean rubbed the back of his head and muttered something about 'not my fault' when the waitress returned with their food. Apparently, she'd heard some of their conversation because she added.

"It's real strange. All the girls just disappeared, ya know? And I heard from my friend, he's the son of a police officer...apparently there was nothing on the clothes. No hair or DNA or anything...it's like they wiped the clothes clean for some reason and left them there, and always surrounded by ice. I think it's gotta be a hoax, and those girls'll turn up sooner or later...they're all from QOC."

"QOC?" Dean asked.

"Quiet Oaks College, the one and only, if you don't count Westland. And no one does."

"Westland?"

"Kind of a...well, it's sort of...out of place. This whole town was built like two hundred years ago to be a 'model of society' but there were still some...outcasts. Westland was like...the school for the low class. There are still a few places like that in Quiet Oaks. Just kinda...rundown. The Mayor wants to get rid of them and rebuild, but there are still some residents fighting the motion. Don't know why, it's all a bunch of crap..."

"Lynette! Order on table three!" her boss shouted and Lynette scrunched her nose.

"Coming, coming."

"Lynette, wait-" Sam set his hand on her arm gently and she paused. "Can you think of any reason the students would be targeted? Was anything stolen from them?"

"Lynette!"

"I know!" she shouted back, apparently familiar enough with her boss to do so as she shook her head at Sam. "Well that's the other weird thing. It's not like anything was taken from them, except...well, themselves. And as for why...I dunno. Well...there was..." she hesitated and shook her head, apparently thinking the better of her chatter. "Gotta go, nice talking to you."

"Wait-" but Lynette had already gone and Sam frowned.

"Did you see that? Something she was about to say...it was almost like she was...afraid. What do you think, Dean? Dean?"

His brother had his mouth full of hamburger and ketchup dribbling from his chin and he eyed the other with disgust as he tossed a napkin at him. "Clean yourself up. I think we have a case here."

Dean seemed a bit indignant but swallowed and gulped down some water before he wiped his face. "Four girls go missing and the cold-hearted waitress gets edgy. Remind me again how this is our kind of case?"

"Weren't you listening? They just disappeared? With nothing taken? And what's with the ice..."

"I don't know...someone was hot?"

Sam grit his teeth before he rose. "Nevermind, Dean, just forget it." he said before he stalked off.

"Hey, Sammy! Wait! What did I say?" Dean watched him go before he shook his head and began to finish his meal, glowering all the while.

"Stupid...self-centered...arrogant..." Sam muttered angrily in regards to his brother as he stalked off to take a walk. For the past couple of weeks, it was like Dean had been working overtime to piss him off. His childish, hot-head tendencies had been taken to an almost excessive level, in Sam's opinion, and he didn't understand it. Was it some kind of subconscious get-back at Sam for his time without a soul? Or what?

That probably wasn't fair of him to think, but truth be told, he hadn't exactly been himself the past couple of weeks either. More so than his usual...'new' self. Dean's antics, once annoying but fond now agitated him to the point that he just wanted to strangle the other.

"No." Sam stopped walking as that memory assailed him, the memory of Dean's eyes growing dark by his hands and he shuddered in revulsion and pain. Never again.

"Sammy! Sam! Hey, wait up!" Dean jogged up after him and he clapped a hand on Sam's back. "What the Hell? Just up and leave...what's going on with you lately..."

"Going on with _me_?" Sam demanded as he whirled around, angry and on the defensive given the mental torment he'd just put himself through. "You're the one running around acting like a...child! Jeez, babysitting my older brother...as if things weren't bad enough."

Dean's expression went from confused, irritated, and almost concerned to thunderous instantly. "Babysitting? Is that what you call me saving your ass over and over again?"

"It's what I call carting you around when you're stumbling drunk! Or having to keep you in line because you hit on anything that moves! You don't take your responsibilities seriously at all! How am I supposed to depend on you?" The words flew from his mouth before he could think them through, and he could tell from the slapped-look on Dean's face that that last line had hurt him.

But Dean hid it quickly enough as he took a step back and spoke lowly. "So I'm an unreliable, worthless, drunken pervert you're stuck with. Is that what you're saying, Sam?"

"No...that's not...what I meant. It's just, Dean...you're so... "

"So what, Sam?"

"..."

Dean stared hard at Sam a moment as he looked away, and after a moment of silence had passed Dean nodded. "Okay. Got it. Loud and clear. You don't want me around, hey, no problem. I'm gone."

"Dean..."

"Later." was the only reply he gave Sam as he gave a backwards salute as he walked away.

As Sam reluctantly turned and walked the other way, he didn't notice something in the alley beside him.

A pair of red, faintly glowing eyes watched the scene and when the brothers had gone, the red slid away as the eyes closed and left darkness instead.

Eyes that saw the frayed threads of fate, the threads of their bond, surrounding the brothers, and the little imps gnawing them apart.

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**Bwah! I really wanna go for a third chapter involving Sammy in a bar and ill-spoken wish...but we'll see. I might go to the midnight showing of Rise of the Planet of the Apes and I've got work in the morning... _...but since it's my eight hour job instead of my twelve-and-a-half hour job...I'm less worried about being tired. XD MUWAHA! I feel good about this story. I'm quite excited to be writing it, and that I've already got people reading it. -insert happy dance here- XD~**


	3. Sleepless by the Dawn

**Bwah. I was supposed to write for another story of mine...but I couldn't focus on it so I went back to this. XD It's very -be careful what you wish for- XD XD I've been watching the actual series, starting from the beginning. So hopefully I'll manage to move through the series swiftly while still writing and working. Hopefully. XD I'm on episode 12 now, I believe. As far as what I've actually seen...I've gotten to maybe the third or fourth season. XD Give or take several episodes and possibly a whole season, but I digress! XD**

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The scent of cheap cigars and tuneless songs were the backdrop for Sam's current location. A bar, a little closer to what had been collectively referred to as 'Westland'. He'd stumbled onto it and found himself sipping a beer. Not a typical action for him, but under the present circumstances, nursing a bottle seemed somehow appropriate. If a bit hypocritical given the mental smack he'd given Dean for it.

It was better than sitting in the motel twiddling his thumbs and hoping that Dean would show up.

Sam regretted his words, of course, but in a way...weren't they the truth?

"Hey, there, cutie. Haven't seen you around." A soft-faced, curvy blonde took a seat beside him and flashed him a smile.

"Not interested." Sam mumbled, but when she didn't leave or grow offended and instead simply watched him, he tilted his gaze towards her. "Do you need something?"

The woman's smile widened coyly. "Not really...it's just, you seemed kind of...sad. Anything you wanna talk about?"

"No. Thank you." Sam managed to mutter as he looked away again and instead settled for concentrating on his beer. But the woman was insistent as she ordered a beer for herself and sipped it with relish before she smiled at him again.

"Well, if you change your mind, I'll be here awhile. My roommate's a little...busy at the moment."

Sam didn't respond a moment, not until her meaning hit him and he coughed a bit on his beer. "That's...a shame.." he muttered. He didn't want to talk, but he wasn't in such a mood that he'd shove her away either so he was stuck with her for the moment, it seemed.

"Oh? Most people would think it was a good thing. You know. Studying for a test."

Sam's eyes widened slightly as he registered that bit of information and realized he'd been teasingly set-up, if her faint smirk and playful glance was any indication. "Yeah...definitely..." he replied.

The woman eyed him for a moment before she held out her hand. "I'm Julie."

"...Sam." he replied after a short pause before he shook her hand and introduced himself.

"So, Sam. Ready to tell me what's on your mind?"

"Huh?"

"C'mon. I can tell. You're depressed. Share your troubles. I'm open." she said with a wide gesture and a smile to match.

Sam started to dismiss her, but something in him wanted to speak with her. He wanted to share what was going on. Everything. It was a sudden compulsion and he found himself talking before he'd even realized that he was doing so, explaining (without mentioning his hunter-status) about his domineering older brother, controlling father, and his generally hectic life.

"So...Dean. Do you maybe wish...things were different?" Julie asked when they'd reached the end of the 'story' some thirty or so minutes later.

Sam sighed. "I just...wish that he understood me better...that he knew what it was like for me...I want things to be the way they were but...there's no changing that, right?" he shook his head and offered her a half-smile. "Sorry. I sort of...went on."

"No trouble at all, Sam. Anytime, I'm open...but it's getting late. You should head home."

"Home, huh?" Back to the motel, and a pissy Dean? Talk about fun. "I think I'll just walk around for a bit...are you heading home?"

"Oh...soon. I've just got a few things to take care of. But it's been nice meeting you, Sam. You ever need to talk again, just come find me, alright?"

Sam finally gave a wider smile. "Yeah, thanks, Julie." he slid a payment and tip on the table before he headed out into the night. Like it or not, he'd have to head back, and then...he and Dean would...make up? He wanted to, he really did. Fighting with his older brother gave him no pleasure (generally speaking), but nor did letting the issues between them fester. On the other hand, talking to his brother was like talking to a rock with an attitude problem. "Stubborn bastard." he muttered as he slipped his hands into his pockets to fight against the sudden chill in the air. Had it been that cold earlier? Sam didn't recall, but he was too focused on the present situation to dwell on that. Or to dwell on the fact he had not yet realized: that Julie had known his brother's name, even though he had never told it to her.

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"So he made the wish?" a low, male voice spoke into the shadows of an alleyway outside the bar.

"Would I be out here if he didn't?" replied a female voice.

"His wish wasn't as expected..."

"But still easily manipulated for your plans. So what does it matter?"

"I suppose that it does not, as long as the proper results are achieved."

"They will be." Julie said with certainty. "As soon as Dean Winchester is dead."

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**Whoot! So...I'm falling asleep...but I tried. XD *struggling to keep awake to even post* _ So. I was gonna write my opinion on Wincest but my eye is closed...*tries anyway* So...ZzzZzzz...XD Even Kripke (as well as Ackles/Padalecki) do not seem un-fond of the concept. Rather, approving, if not condoning. It's touchy either way. Personally, I love the brothers as brothers, but I don't think Wincest is all that AU-ey either. They have some definite platonic bromance (though some would argue it's less than platonic which admittedly, I think is stretching it a smidge), although it was even noted that they are typical of soulmates by that one angel (amongst other things). I don't necessarily want them to start jumping each others' bones, but I feel like they'd be best just spending the rest of their lives together. They understand and complete each other, the yin to each others' yang. If one of them went off and married after everything that they've been through it would just be...odd. They belong at each others' side. XD As brothers, at least, if not lovers.~ Although some chillens from the boys (respectively) or through supernatural means would be cute too. XD**


	4. Striking Similarities

**Edit: So. Some of you may have noticed I posted a chapter here that definitely did not belong...my apologies. As mentioned in my later author notes for this chapter, I was going to be late for work and in a hurry, and must have posted the wrong document by mistake. Somewhat fortuitous, in that I can call it tonight's chap and do a bit more cleanup of what was a very rushed work. XD**

**Whoot! Next chap! Thanks for your reviews! They keep my existence happy. XD I read them at work and they brighten my day. Or in the morning when I wake up still half-asleep. Depending on when you write them. XD Branch, your dedication thus far brings joy to me. And gives me anxiety. Because I feel like you're ready to pounce if I fail. ;-; *endeavors not to* XD Cornish...your screenname rocks and that review made me do a sleepy happy-dance XD and Moira! Your review is controversial and fantastic! Illucida, you've given me my first awesome. Therefore. YOU are awesome. It's the principal of...awesomeness. Jensenslove and caymus, thank you for your information and reviews! XD Thanks dearies~ **

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"Dean, look out!" Sam cried as he lunged for the other, too late.

The knife slid into Dean's side as blood began to pool around his shirt, and a surprised Dean looked to Sam before he stumbled to the ground.

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**Six Hours Earlier**

The difference was, in a word, substantial.

Dean had, after a considerable bit of angry walking, found his way over to Westland as the collective neighborhood (and school) were called. Whether or not he and Sam were fighting, there was apparently still a job to do. One that involved missing women and ice.

Quiet Oaks was like something out of a catalog, whereas Westland, while not the slums...was a far cry from the modern opulence of it's neighboring town.

_Click_. _Click_.

A young woman stood clicking a staple gun against a post that now held up her chosen sign, a missing poster for one Leayani Brooks.

"Friend of yours?" Dean asked as he approached and saw her jump in surprise before she shot him an uncomfortable look. He took note of that as he offered her a light smile that seemed to do nothing to ease her apparent anxiety.

"...Yes..she was..." The woman turned her back to post another sign, and Dean lifted a brow before he followed behind her.

"May I ask what happened, miss...?"

The woman shot him another uncomfortable look. "Tracie. And read a paper. No one knows. One minute she was there, the next she was gone..."

"You saw it happen?"

"...No. Who are you?"

"The name's Clark. I'm a detective from up north in Green County. I've been sent to investigate the disappearances of the QOC students...that being said, can you think of any reason that your friend might have been targeted?"

The woman still seeemed suspicious but she answered with a shake of her head. "Leayani...was well-liked...she came from Hawaii a few years ago and she's become one of the Westland family...no one would hurt her."

"Westland family?"

"We're a pretty tight-knit community. So everyone pretty much looks out for each other.."

"Can you tell me more about what happened?"

The woman cast an uneasy glance around before she inclined her head. "Leayani...it was late, she was going back to her dorm at Westland College...it doubles as a high school...and then she was gone...I wasn't there to see it...but...her clothes were all that was left...and a bunch of ice...is that all? I really need to get back to what I was doing.."

Dean penned his number on a piece of paper and handed it to her. "You think of anything else, anything at all, you let me know, alright? I'm sorry for your loss."

The girl took the paper and eyed it a moment before she nodded. "Thank you." she slipped the paper into her pocket and headed back to what she was doing.

In such a small town, Dean didn't figure the posters would do much, but he supposed she had to try something. His next bet would be to check out the college, which would be an easier task if Sam were around...but he wasn't, so there was that...

As for the girl, her edgy, nervous behavior puzzled him a bit. Was she just afraid of a strange man talking to her, or...was it something else?

After a bit of wandering Dean found his way to the college slash high school, it wasn't far and wasn't that impressive. A ivy-covered building of ruined color with a few connecting buildings that he assumed were the dormitories. Several students roamed the walkways and after a moment, he decided he'd speak with someone else.

Which was how he found himself in the principal's office.

"You say you're a detective...?" The principal was a weary-looking woman with her hair tied back in a messy bun.

"Yes, ma'am. Name's Clark." he flashed her a badge. "I'm here to investigate the disappearances...is there anything that you can tell me about them?"

The woman scrunched her nose to read the badge before it was taken and dismissed it as she looked to Dean instead. "Nothing you wouldn't have heard...she simply vanished...she left behind her clothes...and there was a strange amount of ice around her...or frost, I should say."

"Frost?"

"Well...yes. It wasn't just ice cubes or anything, it was a blanket of frost on the ground...except for her clothes. They were spotless, the only reason we even knew that they were...her clothes, was because they were identified by a few of her friends."

"Can you think of any reason that they might be targeted?"

The woman hesitated a moment before she replied. "I..." she sighed. "No, no I can't."

"Ma'am. I could really use your help on this. If you know anything.." Dean prompted.

She hesitated again before she admitted. "Quiet Oaks...I hate to accuse anyone there but...I can't imagine anyone in our little town hurting someone else here...we're a very close community, you see..."

"So you think it was someone from Quiet Oaks?"

"I-I'm not sure.." she seemed nervous and Dean switched his topic.

"Has there been any student deaths before. Or anything strange?"

The principal blinked and started to shake her head before she paused. "Well...there was one...a student...Moira Jameson...she left the campus one night and was never seen again. Only her clothes, but they were cleaned and pressed, and left outside the school..."

Dean blinked at that. A girl disappears and someone does her laundry? Not exactly a 'supernatural' case, but that certainly qualified as 'strange'. "Are there any theories?"

The woman shook her head. "None...she left one night and was never seen again. She was a good girl. Studied hard. I was a teacher then, it was about...ten years ago...she wasn't well-liked though."

"What do you mean?"

"Well...she was considered a little...odd. She wore strange jewelry, symbols and things, and often muttered to herself...very sweet girl, but odd..."

"Does she have any family or friends?"

"Her family moved not long after her...disappearance. As for friends...there was one girl...she lives in Quiet Oaks now, though...that happens from time to time...let's see...Angela Adams. I believe she's a teacher at Quiet Oaks College, as it happens."

Dean nodded. "Thank you for your time, ma'am. I think that's all for now...have a good day." he inclined his head and left the school, uncertain of where to start next. He could look up old reports on the Moira girl to see if there was any conncection, it seemed that there may well be...but ten years ago, huh? Then there was Angela...others in the 'close-knit community'...yeah, Quiet Oaks definitely rubbed him the wrong way. The white fence community crap just didn't float his boat, to put it mildly.

"Damnit. Where the Hell do I start?" he muttered before his brow furrowed as he noted something from the corner of his eyes. Several of the buildings around the school were closed down shops, or restaurants, and between a pair of them was a small, vacant lot.

A small vacant lot that he'd just seen a cloaked man enter.

Dean let his hand slide down to his gun as he made his way across the street and to the vacant lot. Dirt. Some bushes. Some rocks. No sign of a cloaked man. Not until he felt the hair on the back of his neck rise a bit as warm air like breath brushed by and he turned quickly...

...To face a man...without a face.

"What the Hell..." Dean stumbled back, taken aback by the sight.

Dressed in all black and a thick hood, the man before him had a head...and a face...but no features. Lips, eyes, mouth, nose...there was nothing, just blank, scarred skin. When it stepped towards him again, he whipped out his gun and took a quick shot at it, that should at least scare it. But instead, the bullet went right through it and while it caused the thing to flicker, it solidified again and took a step forward. So a spirit, then?

Dean didn't have any of the proper equipment on him to deal with a spirit, most of his things were at the motel or in the Impala. He'd left his baby in that damned parking lot. A silver glint caught his eyes and he cursed again as he saw that the thing had a knife. "Slow down there, beauty queen. We can talk this out, can't we?" As the faceless man stepped towards him, he muttered. "Nope."

"Dean!"

Dean turned in surprise to see Sam at the edge of the lot, headed towards him, and he waved a hand. "Sam! You got any salt?" he called out. It was a long shot, but hey.

"What..? No!" Sam called back and seemed confused a brief moment before his eyes widened as he took note of the figure and it's...face. Or lack thereof.

The figure was before Dean again suddenly.

"Dean, look out!" Sam cried as he lunged for the other, too late.

The knife slid into Dean's side as blood began to pool around his shirt, and a surprised Dean looked to Sam before he stumbled to the ground.

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**I fell asleep last night before I could finish so I rushed it this morning when I woke up. So if it's a bit jumpy from place to place...THAT'S WHY! REALLY! *on the edge of being late for work* ;-; and my computer won't work to upload! _ Ahhhh. *runs to the living room* ~**

**Edit: Alright! I woke up a bit earlier after falling asleep while writing...again. I think I cleaned it up pretty well and it's my longest chapter yet! : D XD _ I think. And I had fun with the cliffhanger start. XDD Thank you, those of you who informed me of my error...since I had been laboring under the happy delusion that I'd posted correctly. ;-; I'd have noticed...eventually. But this was much faster. XD Thank you for your reviews and reads, they brighten my day, they really do. Even the constructive criticism ones. XD One thing I need to work on is my extreme-descriptions. I'm used to roleplaying, so I end up describing every minute little action and nuance of speech. ;-; I'm working on it. XD Thanks again, dearies! *passes out cookies* ~ **


	5. Injuries Deeper than Flesh

**So. I've noticed some desire-ridden questioning. XD Age-regressed Dean shall be next post. I do believe. XD And I'll try to finish it tonight so that there's no more nonsense in the morning XD Also, I should mention, my Dean will be about ten, I believe. This turning the brothers into wee babes nonsense gives me the willies. That baby talk and such, bwah. I want him to be a kid...but still old enough to provide...angst. XD And such. And smart-assery, let's not forget that. For those of you who read too quickly before FF could update correctly (moira) although I appreciate it, XD chapter four's repost was correct. As stated, thank you for the reviews which quite brighten my existence and entice me to post even when I should be sleeping...XD Illucidaaaa, yes. That is all I have to say about your continued awesome. Prettygirly, you used action-astericks. You rock. XD *starts writing before I pass out* ;-;**

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"Dean!"

Sam called out to his brother as he saw him fall to his knees and he felt his heart stop in his chest. Dean's shirt darkened with blood and Sam quickly skidded to the ground beside the other. "Dean! Are you alright?" he kept on eye on the faceless thing as well, which seemed content to stand aside for the moment.

"Yeah..." Dean muttered through clenched teeth as he lifted a hand to reveal his side. "Cut's not too deep...Sam, look out!" he shoved the other as the faceless...whatever it was lunged for them and clasped a gnarled hand around Dean's throat as it dug in tightly to begin strangling him. Dean's face began to turn several shades of red then purple as he tried to pry the thing's fingers off to no avail.

Sam watched in horror a split second before he tried to intercede and found himself tossed back as the thing waved it's hand. What kind of power was that? Dean's eyes began to roll back in his head as his face turned a mottled shade and Sam felt his anxiety pique. "_Dean_!" he wasn't sure of quite what happened next as he felt like something was ripped away from him and hurled at the thing which was blasted back and dissipated, which left Dean to drop to the ground.

"Dean...Dean?" Sam didn't waste time pondering what had just happened, not when he was busy wrapping his arms around Dean and watching anxiously as his brother choked in the attempt to force air back down his throat and into his desperate lungs.

"The Hell...was that...?" Dean wheezed, and Sam wasn't sure if he meant the thing...or whatever it was Sam had just done. Some sort of...power surge? It had happened before...but that had been then...

"C'mon, let's get you back to the motel." Sam said as he pulled Dean's arm around his shoulder and helped the other to stand.

Dean was still breathing heavily and didn't protest as he stumbled at first before he regained his footing and walked alongside Sam. "How'd...you find me?" he mumbled as he swallowed hard to try to regain some sense of feeling in his now sore throat and neck, and tried to ignore the sharp sting in his side. The cut wasn't deep, but damn if it didn't hurt.

"Don't try to speak. Just relax." Sam instructed. "I went looking for you when I saw the Impala at the restaurant still...I didn't figure you'd just leave it and you weren't at the motel..as for finding you right then, I got lucky, I guess..." the Impala came into view and Dean frowned as he pulled to a dead stop as he slid a hand down to pat his pocket and found his keys still there.

"How the Hell...did my car get here, Sammy?"

"Ah.."

"Sam."

"I had a spare key made back in Louisville..."

"Spare key? To my car?" It was remarkable how quickly he could recover when worried about his 'baby'.

"Is this really the time for this, Dean?" Sam sighed as he helped Dean into the car before joining him and heading back for the motel.

"You stole my car!"

"I didn't steal it." Sam said, a bit annoyed now, "And I told you, stop talking! When we get to the motel I can treat that cut but you have to let your throat rest.."

Dean huffed, but he let the matter drop for the moment if only because speaking felt a bit like swallowing knives.

...

"Remind me again...why did you think it was a good idea to steal my car?"

Sam groaned as he put the finishing touches on the bandage around Dean's stomach, after having tended the other's wound with antiseptic. "You know I didn't steal it. And if I hadn't driven it, with my spare key, that thing would have broken your neck. No thanks needed, though."

"She's a 'she', not and 'it'. And she only needs one key: my key."

"I can't believe we're having this conversation now...you were attacked, and all you can think about is that car..."

"What can I say? She's demanding."

"..."

"What was that?"

"Nothing, Dean...nothing." Sam had muttered something to the effect of Dean being the demanding one but he'd leave it at that.

"So, Dean...why were you out there anyway? Where did that...thing come from?" he wanted to make sense of it.

Dean slipped his shirt back on over his bandage and he paused to consider it a moment. His throat was still sore, and clearly bruised, but it hadn't stopped him from speaking anyway so Sam had given up on chastising him for it for the moment. He didn't like the look of the bruises though, Dean's neck was a mess and Sam could tell that it hurt to speak regardless. "I walked around for awhile. Then I started investigating. Westland's pretty run-of-the-mill...Westland college...high...whatever, is squeaky clean according to the principal, except for a Moira Jameson who went missing...clothes were found pressed outside her dorm...no theories and she has a friend here in town, an Angela Adams. She's a teacher at Quiet Oaks college, apparently...seems Moira was a bit...odd."

"How so?"

"Dunno. S'just what the principal said. Sounds like she might have been into 'strange' symbols, but beyond that..." Dean shrugged and then winced as he set a hand on his side.

"Will you _please_ try not to move so much?" Sam noted his brother's pain and he wasn't eased when Dean made a show of lounging that was ruined by another wince.

"Anyway-" Dean continued as if Sam hadn't spoken, and Sam gave up with an annoyed huff, "She seemed to think someone from this side of town might be responsible."

"Any reason why?"

"Well. Apparently they're a real 'close' family down there. So Quiet Oaks must have done it." he scoffed and Sam frowned faintly in disapproval but let it pass.

"Anything else?"

"That isn't enough? Damn. I think I did pretty good considering...and as for that thing. I don't know. It just appeared. What about you, did you find out anything?"

Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat before he shook his head. "...No."

Dean eyed him a moment before he frowned. "Did you even bother looking?"

"..I was...a bit busy." Doing exactly what he'd chastised Dean for, damnit, and while the other was out actually working no less. Talk about making him feel low.

"Doing what?"

"Ah...nothing important."

"Right..." Dean let the matter drop as he leaned back against the pillows with his eyes closed, which was probably a good indicator of Dean's current condition. If he was feeling alright, he would have contested that for sure, found out what Sam had done, and promptly started a round of verbal abuse that Sam supposed he would deserve. And while he was glad to be spared it, he wasn't glad at all that his brother wasn't feeling well. He'd been stabbed and strangled, and if the thing's aim had been sharper, or if Sam hadn't have been there...then Dean would be-

Sam took the opportunity to change the subject gladly. "Get some sleep, Dean, we can't do anything else till morning anyway."

Dean seemed reluctant a moment but then gave a sleepy, pained-wearied nod. He'd been holding it in but now it hit him all at once as he slumped into the bed a bit more deeply. "Sam..."

"Yeah, Dean?"

A sleepy eye slid open to regard Sam. "Earlier..."

Sam blinked, surprised that the other wanted to talk about it but he had something that he needed to say anyway. "Yeah...look...about what I said.."

"Don't steal my car." Dean muttered as he closed his eyes to sleep and Sam frowned.

Was that Dean's way of being an ass, or Dean's way of trying to mend the earlier incident? Sam definitely knew that he wasn't talking about his 'stealing' the car. Sometimes Dean's methods were so similar it was hard to tell. Sam would have been more annoyed, if not for his worry. The way that thing had attacked Dean...it had meant to kill him, and only him. It had all but ignored Sam until that burst of...power? Out of nowhere like that...he knew those powers made Dean uncomfortable, so he wasn't sure if the other's silence on the subject indicated that he had noticed, or that he hadn't. The fact that the thing ignored him left few possibilities...and the one that worried him most was the possibility that it hadn't been random, but that it had been sent to attack Dean. Either way, it didn't make a difference.

Sam was going to protect his big brother.

No matter what.

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**So I managed not to sleep. But there was a lot of dozing involved, and this chapter took like 2-3 hours of uselessness of neither sleeping nor writing. I'm pretty irritated. *has to be AT work in six hours...* ;-; I really wanted to post though. It's my last 12 1/2 hour shift for the week though. Working the next couple of days eight hours each, then I have Saturday off which I intend to spend in a Supernatural marathon slash writing...slash cleaning my room. XD. ;-; So yay. And now. I'm going to crash utterly for the next few hours. XD **


	6. Reminiscent Familiarity

**It's midnight and I work in...like six hours and forty minutes or so. XD So we'll see what happens with this. I finished Season 1 tonight. Yay! But damn too. Because cliffhangers suck. Also, I've been meaning to ask, does anyone know the current status of Sam's powers? I know what he's been able to do, telekenisis, premonitions, exorcisms, and such...but did he lose his powers after coming back from the Hell Cage or what? And has Dean shown any abilities whatsoever? I think it would have been cool if Sam had demon powers and Dean had angel powers. Ah well. *must needs watch* XD**

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"Alright, wake up! And don't do anything stupid!" Something was shoved hard into Sam's cheek as he heard a voice through his dreamy haze. He'd fallen asleep in a chair slumped over Dean's bed, and he slowly came to as something was shoved into his cheek again while he was shouted at. "Wake up! Who are you? Talk, or I'll shoot!"

"Nnn...Dean?" Sam was confused a moment, disoriented and not understanding before his eyes slid open...and he realized that there was a handgun pointed at his face. "H-Hey!" he moved reflexively and grabbed the wrist before him as he twisted the gun away and tugged the culprit forward to the ground where he quickly shoved a knee into his stomach to hold him down.

And received a shock.

"...Dean..?"

Beneath him was a boy with close-cropped brown hair, and too-big clothes...the ones covered in blood from the night before. Dean's clothes. And he'd recognize the boy anywhere...it was his big brother after all.

When he was a kid, anyway.

The boy stiffened beneath him before he took a wild swing at Sam that he caught easily. "Let me go! Where's my brother? If you touched him, I'll kill you myself! Dad! Dad!" the boy shouted as he squirmed beneath the stunned and disbelieving Sam.

"Dean...is it...really you?" Sam found himself asking the question before he could stop himself, and again, Dean paused and this time regarded Sam with a confused and angry look.

"Yeah. My name's Dean. What are you?" Dean spat, apparently regarding Sam as a supernatural intruder.

Sam jerked back as if he'd been burned as he stared down at his...now far smaller big brother. "No way..." he whispered, and then for the second time that morning, he found a weapon pointed at his face-this time, a knife. This could not be happening. "Damnit, Dean!" he snatched the other's wrist again and jerked the boy against him with his back against Sam's chest as he disarmed him. "What's wrong with you? How did this happen?" he hadn't really keyed into Dean's behavior yet, it was all too unreal. He wasn't entirely certain that he wasn't still dreaming. Where the was holy water again? Sam needed to be sure...needed to be sure that this wasn't some kind of trick or apparition...but if it was, then where was Dean? And what being could match his brother this way?

"Wrong with _me_? You're the one in my house!" Dean spat back in reply, although 'house' was a loose term for him, one used to describe whichever motel his father had taken he and his brother to most currently.

"Take a look around, this isn't our house!"

Dean, for the first time, seemed to take note of his surroundings, although not the use of 'our'. He had woken up, recognized nothing, seen Sam, and attacked. But he hadn't really taken anything else into account and he stared with wide eyes before they narrowed on Sam. "So you kidnapped me? Don't think you'll get away with this!" he spat venomously.

Sam then, for the first time, truly realized that more than just Dean's size was an issue. Again, assuming that it really was Dean and honestly...he was certain that it was. He could just...feel it. Know. "Dean...your memories...you don't know me?"

"Um. _No_. So let me go and I _might_ let you live!" Dean began his efforts to squirm again, held tightly against Sam's chest.

"Dean..." What was going on? If this wasn't a dream, then... "Dean...look at me. Can you honestly say that you don't know me?"

"Yeah, I can, so let go!" he was persistent in his struggles, and Sam, despite his still partially stunned state, thumped Dean on the head.

"_Look_ at me, Dean. Tell me you don't know me." Sam stared down at Dean intently as the boy finally looked up and regarded him with a frown, and after a moment, he saw the Dean's eyes widen.

"...Sam...?"

Sam sighed in relief. "Yeah, Dean, I'm Sam." His brother had recognized him, that was-

-"And I'm the tooth fairy. FYI, my brother is six years old, idiot." Dean was as pleasantly-spoken as ever. And apparently ten years of age. "Now tell me where he really is, or else."

Sam didn't bother pointing out that Dean had nothing to threaten him with. "I'm right here, Dean. I _am _Sam and you're...look, it's hard to explain...I am Sam. I'm your brother."

"Uh huh. Sam's not an old guy. Sorry." Dean didn't get this guy. Why didn't he try to attack? And where were Sam and their father anyway? He didn't recognize his surroundings at all. And moreover...he was worried for his family.

Sam seemed offended. "I'm not..." he sighed and shook his head. "Nevermind...Dean...I really am Sam. And I really am your brother." This was way too weird.

Dean eyed him for a moment before he rolled his eyes. "Fine. Let's say you are Sam. Let me go."

Sam frowned. "I don't think-"

"-Sam would let me go." Dean announced and he seemed confident in his logic until Sam spoke.

"So you can try to shoot me again? No thanks."

Dean scowled and pondered it a moment before he looked confident again. "Alright then. Tell me something only Sam would know."

"Like what?"

"What do you mean 'like what'? Just something only my _real_ brother would know."

"...Okay. When you were eight you stole Dad's wallet to get the key to his gun cage, and then dropped it down the drain and lied about it-"

"-You promised you wouldn't tell!"

"-And then you used a fishing pole with a magnet attached to try to get it back and got in trouble anyway."

Dean seemed agitated at first until realization struck him. "But...how do you know that?"

Sam's expression softened. "Cause it's me, Dean. I'm Sam."

Dean stared at him for a long moment before he slowly lifted his hand to touch Sam's face and then run his fingers through the other's hair. "It's...really you, Sammy...?"

"Yeah.." The brothers gazed back at each other for a moment and Dean's gaze started to seem less angry...right up until Sam agitated him again.

Water was suddenly thrust into Dean's face as Sam found a bottle of holy water and unscrewed it with one hand behind his back. When Dean was hit, he only spluttered and then glared. "You lying-"

"I didn't lie! It's holy water...I just had to be sure..."

"Be sure of what?" Dean snapped.

"That you weren't...a demon."

Dean scowled. "Me? You're the one who looks like an old guy. How do I know you're not a demon?"

"Didn't we just establish that?" Sam asked, a bit exasperated.

"Didn't you just throw water in my face?" Dean retorted, a bit short-tempered.

"Like I said, to be sure you were you!"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Dean demanded. To his mind, if this was Sam, then it was Sam who'd changed. He didn't realize seventeen or so years had passed since his current reality was only ten years old.

"Because...because you..." Sam faltered and then released Dean who eyed Sam warily before he scooted away. "Just...look at this." he probably should have taken his time with it, but he wasn't sure where to begin as it was. Sam left just long enough to grab their father's journal and return as he pulled out a picture for Dean's inspection.

Dean frowned. "That's Dad's journal!"

"He gave it to us. To you, actually...but, just look at this picture."

Sam, Dean, and John were all together in front of the Impala. It was taken just a few years before Sam had left for college.

Dean stared down at it for a moment, momentarily taken aback...his Dad looked so old...but there was the Impala...and the guy claiming to be Sam...and... "Who's that?" he pointed to the man in the dark jacket.

Sam was silent a moment before he admitted softly. "Dean...that's...you."

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**Fell asleep before I could post last night, gahhh! XD but here it is. LITTLE DEAN! ~ Hope it was funny. I'm going to enjoy little Dean. He's still a smart-ass bad-boy...but he's also still got a heart and gooey-boy sentimentality. XD Sam's missed it! Even if he doesn't know it. Or maybe he does, since he said as much. XD ANYWAY! Off to start season 2! XD~**


	7. A Tale of Two Brothers

**Sleepy...we'll see what I can manage. XD And Branch, it's not that he'll appreciate him more. Sam's made a bunch of references to wanting his 'big brother back'. So even though he's little...he's more...gooey-brother than bad-ass brother again. Or something. XD **

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"So you're telling me...that that guy in the picture...is me? And that somehow...I got small?" Dean queried after Sam had told him quite the tale.

"Well, yeah...that's...pretty much it." He'd told a summarized version of events, of their life growing up, of the discovery they made about their mother's killer and his demise, but he left out a few crucial details. Including John's death. Sam studied his brother as he tried to determine his mood. He seemed to take the news well, but it had to be a lot to take in all the same.

"Where's Dad?"

The question hung in the air and the weight of it hit Sam hard. Dean had lost his father as an adult, but to lose him again, as a child? He couldn't tell the truth, especially when Dean was tentative about the whole situation. He couldn't just say, 'oh, by the way, Dad's dead. Because he sold his soul to the demon who killed Mom to save you'. "He's hunting. Like I said, it's usually you and I out hunting...sometimes Dad gives us missions, but..."

"Oh."

Sam silently praised the fact that cell phones hadn't been the big hit in their childhood that they were presently. Dean understood the concept of John not always being able to get to a phone, which meant that for the time being, he could say that John was off hunting and there wasn't really a way for Dean to disprove him.

Silence descended between the brothers a moment before Dean spoke again. "Is this really happening, Sam?"

"Yeah. This is for real." Sam admitted.

Dean fell silent again as he seemed to contemplate that answer a moment before he nodded. "Okay, then. I believe you, you're Sammy. And I'm...old." he scrunched his nose.

"Twenty-seven isn't exactly elderly, Dean."

"That's like...eight-hundred in dog years." Dean retorted.

"You're not a dog."

"Yeah, but still..."

Sam shook his head with a reluctant smile. It brought back memories of his childhood. Not the most conventional childhood, of course, but Dean had made it a Hell of a lot better than it would been. He'd taken care of Sam, and now it looked like-for the moment-he'd be doing the same for Dean.

"So...what am I like...old?"

Sam rolled his eyes at Dean's persistence with the 'old' bit but he considered the question anyway before he finally replied with a faint smirk. "You're...a real smart-ass. But that's nothing different."

"Hey! You can't say that to your big brother!" Dean protested.

"I think I just did."

Dean scowled, but he listened as an amused Sam went on.

"You're a really great hunter. You've saved a lot of people, me included." as he'd hoped, Dean seemed pleased by that information.

"So pretty much, I'm even more awesome when I'm older." Dean looked smug.

"And just as arrogant." Sam added with a snort.

"Hey..." Dean narrowed his eyes. He wasn't sure what 'arrogant' meant, but he could tell that Sam was making fun of him again, somehow. "Well...what about other stuff? Cars, girls, money...am I famous or what?"

"Well...Dad gave you the Impala."

"_What_?" Dean looked stunned then thrilled. "Oh, yeah! When can I drive her?"

"When you're older." Sam said with a lifted brow. "At the moment, you have the mind of a ten year old and a body to match. So I'll be doing the driving."

"Aw, Sam, that's bogus! It's my car! You said so!"

"Anyway-" he attempted to put an end to the subject and Dean looked further annoyed. "-Um..you had a lot of...girl...friends. And...you might be a better con man than Dad, so money's not bad..." Dean looked pleased again. "And you're wanted in St. Louis for murder.."

"Huh? ...Murder?"

"You didn't actually kill anyone. It was just a Shapeshifter wearing your body." Sam explained, and Dean's expression became troubled. Sam moved on quickly. "But, yeah, you averted the apocalypse...killed the demon that killed Mom..."

"_I_ did that?"

"Yup...you've done good, Dean." Sam was relieved that he had taken the other's mind off of driving-and murder-for the moment. Or maybe not.

Dean's expression was silently stunned and he was still a long moment before he shook his head. "But...me? What about...I thought...so it was a demon...and...I killed it? Not Dad?"

Ah, crap. "Well...there was this gun...a special gun that could even kill demons. You used it and killed the demon."

Dean took a moment to digest that information before he nodded his head slowly as if to reassure himself of it. "So me and you and Dad...we're okay? But then...how come we're still hunting?"

"What do you mean?"

"If it's over...we can go home, right? We don't have to hunt anymore?"

Sam stared at his brother, taken aback. Maybe he'd taken it for granted that Dean wanted to be a hunter as badly as he'd thought because from where he sat, the confused, hopeful look on Dean's face suggested that being a hunter was the last thing he wanted. "We still have to hunt, Dean...there are people who need us..." Wasn't that one important reason that he hadn't gone back to school?

Dean's expression fell before his eyes but the boy turned his head quickly. "Yeah...duh. Stupid question. So we're all kick-butt hunters and the thing that...killed Mom is gone...and that's life. Yeah."

"You don't want to be a hunter?"

"...'Course I do, Sammy. And besides, we're together, right? So as long as we stick together, we're just fine." Dean flashed him a familiar, cocky smile. But the boy hadn't quite developed Dean's knack for apparent apathy and Sam could see that the boy was more than disappointed, he was...let down.

Sam felt like a stone had been dropped into his stomach but he nodded. "Yeah, bro. We're together. That's how it should be."

Dean toyed with a hole in the table for a moment before he muttered. "You're not supposed to be taller than me."

"What?"

"The picture. You're taller than me." Dean flicked his gaze up to Sam and it was almost accusing, his lips in a faint pout.

Sam blinked and then couldn't help but laugh a bit. Had his brother always been so...adorable? Was this how Dean had seen him in their childhood? "Sorry, Dean. Can't help it."

Dean hmphed a bit before he traced his fingers along the edge of the picture. He fell quiet a moment, something that seemed to be common between them at present before he spoke in something of a mumble. "So we're still close? I still...nevermind. It's dumb."

"What is it?" Sam could still see conflict in Dean's expression. He believed it was Sam before him, mostly, but the other was still taking everything in, he was guarded and on the defensive. And just himself, of course.

"...I still take care of you...right? I'm...I mean as far as big brothers go..." Dean trailed off and lowered his head, embarrassed. "Nevermind! Just forget it!" Dean kept his head lowered until he felt a large, warm hand cover his own smaller ones and he looked up to see Sam staring back at him with a small smile.

"We take care of each other, Dean. We're brothers and as far as big brothers go...you're the best, man...so don't worry, okay? I could ask for a better big brother."

Dean bit his lower lip and for a moment, it seemed there might be a glimmer of water in his eyes before he coughed and stood up quickly, but not before he gave Sam's hand a squeeze. "Yeah, well, someone has to watch out for a dummy like you. You'd cut yourself with a spoon if you could."

"Hey-" it was Sam's turn to 'pout' a bit, "So I was a little accident-prone..."

"A _little_?" Dean lifted a brow and Sam groaned playfully. Dean watched him a moment before he stepped around the table until he stood right in front of Sam. "It really is you, Sammy...it's hard to believe but...I guess I've seen crazier things..." he gave a half-laugh.

Sam eyed him a moment before he lifted a hand to rest it on Dean's head and ruffle his hair lightly. "It's me, Dean. And we'll fix you. Together."

Dean's lips finally tugged upwards into a smile. "Together." he agreed as he brought his hand up to hold Sam's wrist as the brothers shared a small moment of comfort in each other.

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**Brotherly fluff galore. XD I'm on like..episode 9 of season 2. And I just got seasons 3 and 4. XD 5 and 6 to be gotten laterrr. I don't have work tomorrow but I'm waking up ridiculously early Sunday to hike a mountain and take pictures of the sunrise from the top after it's rained. Which, it hopefully will. But I thought the sun rises at 6 and it's apparently 5 so...sad days. XD ANYWAY! I digress. Lots of technical stuff I didn't concern but I did my best. Holding him at bay about their dad and things like that...oh well. XD Fluff~Also, thanks for the Sam power help Moira and Illucida. Branch, as usual, I am not sure if I am doing well by you or not. You're like that stern-teacher. XD *anxiety attack* XD As for the name, Moira, it wasn't a conscious use, but probably subconsciously. I write the first name that comes to mind, which was-for example, how Leayani became Hawaiian. That name just popped into my head and I built her around it XD so I probably had read your name and it popped into my head because of that although I didn't realize it until later after posting. XD THANKS FOR THE REVIEWS AND READS AND FAVES AND ALERTS! My phone pops up with messages when I get them and they make me pretty ridiculously happy, not gonna lie. XD It's food for my soul. (and my ego). ANYWAY! XD~  
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	8. The Definition of Loyalty

**Whoot! Next chap! XD**

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"Yes, Bobby, I checked already... Well, what do you want me to do? Tie him up and try to exorcise him? He'd have to be pretty powerful for holy water not to work, and a shifter wouldn't be able to mimic that age...it's him, Bobby."

"Bobby?"

Sam turned to see Dean in the doorway and he made a shooing motion that only served to make Dean frown and remain where he was. "Look, Bobby, I gotta go. Call me if you find anything." he ended the call and faced his brother who now had his arms crossed.

"'Tie him up'? You still think I'm a monster?"

"You thought I was one." Sam pointed out.

"Yeah, but...look at you." Dean scrunched his nose.

"What's that supposed to mean?" it was Sam's turn to frown.

"You're my little brother. But you look like a dad."

"I am not that old!" Sam wasn't touchy about his age or anything but having his older brother acting like he was an old man was a bit...annoying. "Dad would kill you if he heard you say that about him."

"He's a _real _Dad, it's different. And anyway, it's not like I'd say it to him."

"Just to me." Sam said wryly.

Dean grinned in reply before he plopped down on a chair. "So what'd Bobby say? Any ideas on how to, uh, fix me?"

Sam's humor faded at that and he shook his head. "He's never heard of anything like it. Some creatures can steal age, but they can't give it...I told him about the faceless man yesterday, but.."

"That's the thing you said cut me, right?"

"Yeah..."

"Alright, so let's find that thing and waste it, and I bet I'll be fine." Dean suggested.

"_You_ aren't going anywhere like that."

Dean's expression held a scowl instantly. "I'm not staying behind while you go!"

"Oh, yes you are. You get us into enough trouble as an adult, I'm not going to risk you getting hurt...like that."

"Well I'm not letting my _little brother_ hunt without me." Dean retorted.

"You don't have a choice, Dean. I really will tie you up if that's what it takes to keep you safe."

Dean's eyes narrowed and Sam's expression hardened until a phone rang in Dean's pocket. He blinked and fished it out, and answered before Sam could take it. "Hullo? Uh...yeah, this is Dean, who's askin'? Huh...? Candy Candice...?"

Sam snatched the phone and hung it up quickly with a faint flush. "Jeez, Dean." he muttered.

"Who was that? She said something about me being a naughty boy.." Dean's expression was confused and Sam replied quickly.

"Nevermind! Look, keep your cell phone on you but don't answer unless it's me or Bobby, okay?" he handed it back to Dean, but rather than set it in his pocket, he pointed something out instead.

"I need clothes." Dean's clothes were too large by far for his younger self, and Sam's clothes definitely wouldn't fit.

"I'll get you some when I go out."

"You're not leaving me here!"

"You're staying, and that's final."

Dean gritted his teeth before he shook his head. "I'm coming with you." he said stubbornly. "It's my job to look after you, dummy. I'm going."

"You can't fight like that, Dean, you'll only slow me down. I'll get hurt just trying to protect you."

Dean seemed slightly stricken a moment before he shook his head slowly. "You won't! I can handle myself!"

"No, Dean." Sam turned away to end the conversation but Dean moved in front of him and grabbed a fistful of his sleeve.

"Sam..." Dean started out agitated but moved on to something more anxious. "Look...I don't know what's...going on...but don't go alone...let me come with you. I'll be really careful and I won't...get in your way. I need clothes anyway so just let me come!"

"Dean..."

"Sammy...please?" Dean's tone had turned almost pleading. "I don't...want anything to happen to you...I need to look after you, Sam.."

_Dean stood beside the Impala, firm in his decision to sell his soul if it meant having Sam, his little brother, back. "It's my job to look after you." _

_"And what do you think my job is?" Sam demanded._

_"What?" Dean stared at him in surprise._

_"You're my big brother, there's nothing I wouldn't do for you..."_

Sam stared down at his brother for a long moment before he sighed. "You have to promise me, _promise _Dean, that you'll listen to me. If I tell you to hide, you hide. If I tell you to run and leave me, you run and you leave."

"But-"

"Do you promise or not?"

Dean's jaw clenched a moment as he thought it over before he finally nodded. "Yeah," he muttered, "I promise..."

Sam eyed him a moment before he inclined his head. "Okay, then. Let's get going...we'll get you some clothes and food...and then pick up where you left off."

"Where'd I leave off?"

"A teacher at Quiet Oaks College." Angela Adams, best friend of the first known victim of such a disappearance, Moira Jameson.

Dean followed Sam out to the Impala and under Sam's instruction, wore his seat belt with a scowl. But as they left, for a brief moment, he could have sworn that he saw a young woman with a pale face and bruised eyes before them...but when he blinked, she was gone, and Sam hadn't seen her so he let it pass.

Sam had enough to worry about.

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**More fluff. Sort of. But at least it's a post. XD Sam and Dean are lovingly aggravating each other. XD~**


	9. Realizations of the Heart

**Whoot! I watched the Supernatural Christmas ep, so now I feel I have a slightly better understanding of wee Dean character-wise. XD Such a great ep. CUTE I digress. I wanna finish this by 11. Which is...like 49mins away. XD Edit: Well, I woke up early on accident and finished it this morning! And it's got some nice length! And short author notes! XDD Whee! NOW OFF TO WORK ;-; XD~  
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Weird.

Really. Freaking. Weird.

There just wasn't a much better way to describe how it was to see his older brother riding shotgun as a kid, and _knowing_ that he was.

"Um...you're kinda creeping me out, Sam." Dean's voice broke through his thoughts and he realized that in-between watching the road, he'd been staring at his little older brother.

"Sorry." he muttered as he turned his gaze on the road ahead, uncertain of what else to say. He was officially certain that it was Dean, not some occult trick [well, the cause was almost certainly occult] but he didn't think that it was a trick.

"Must be kinda weird for you." Dean noted, and Sam blinked in surprise before Dean shrugged. "Guess we both gotta deal with it for now. But it better not be a long time. It sucks being shorter than my little brother." he grumbled.

"Yeah, but that doesn't change even when you're older."

"I forgot! Crap!" Dean huffed a bit as he crossed his arms. "Lame."

Sam couldn't help but smile a bit even as his mind kept returning to the oddity of the situation. "Eh, it's not that bad...I don't mind it."

"Yeah, cause you're the one that's taller." Dean said with a faint glare before he looked away and Sam stifled a chuckle that he didn't doubt would only earn him more of his brother's ire.

The drive continued in the same vein until they reached a small clothing outlet. That had been a fun 'adventure'. Part of the time was spent trying to convince Dean that he didn't need to be stealing clothes, and the other part was just a hassle unto itself with Dean being about as interested in clothes shopping as he was in geometry. Which was to say, not at all.

"I am never taking you shopping again. Anywhere. Ever." Sam muttered as he walked alongside the now 'properly' dressed Dean.

Dean tugged at the sleeves of his denim jacket with a faint frown. He'd wanted an ACDC shirt and a cut-off vest, but Sam had gotten him mostly plain things that he felt didn't suit him at all. But it wasn't a biggie, since he'd stolen the ACDC shirt and planned on wearing it shortly. "Even dress like an old man." he muttered.

"What was that?"

"I said' what's for lunch'?" Dean replied with a faint smirk and a now thoroughly unamused Sam shook his head.

What made it weirder was that he was able to fall into sync with the little Dean. It wasn't unfamiliar, after all, he'd spend plenty of time with his big brother in their youth. The whole thing wasn't right...but it wasn't wrong either. The biggest thing was the approach though. Dean treated Sam just like he always had, [save for the old jokes], but Sam had changed in more than just body. It was hard not to be tempted to treat Dean like...well, a child. And as he'd discovered several times already, that did _not_ sit well with Dean. There was a strange balance needed and he couldn't quite get the hang of it.

And there was the incident with the faceless man to consider. He had used powers. Azazel was dead, the major demonic crisis had been diverted, he'd been to Hell and back..._literally_...what did it mean that he had used such powers? What if he relapsed? What if he hurt Dean, or someone else for that matter?

"Hey, Sammy...you okay?"

Sam blinked and looked down at Dean who looked back in turn with concern. He set his hand on Dean's head and ruffled the other's hair gently, and Dean allowed it although he only looked more concerned. "Yeah, just a little tired."

Dean frowned faintly at that response but didn't contest it, just kept close to Sam protectively, much to his amusement and fondness as they walked. But truth be told, he was keeping Dean close too and for much the same reasons.

Not too long after that, he found himself seated across from his brother in a sandwich shop near the college.

"Tell me more about the job."

"What?"

Dean made an impatient gesture. "The job. Girls disappearing, right? And there's some ice...?"

"Students went missing from Quiet Oaks College...all girls, all with some sort of frost or ice residue left at the scene."

"Possessed snowman, maybe?"

"Possessed snowman? Really?"

"It could be!" Dean protested defensively. "Not like you have any better ideas." he muttered.

"But, Dean...a snowman?"

Dean's defensive scowl was interrupted as their food arrived. "All right!" Dean began to dig into his burger and fries with relish, and Sam gave him a mildly disgusted look.

"You know, you can taste your food once in a while." Sam lifted a brow.

Dean stopped mid-chew before he swallowed hard to regard Sam with a sort of frown. "You got a problem with me eating?"

"Just noticing you were inhaling it...so no problem."

Dean shifted in his seat uncomfortably and seemed a bit put out. "It's not like we get to eat at nice places a lot." he muttered. Their diet consisted mainly of gas-station food and the like. Dean stabbed a fry into some ketchup and swirled it around but didn't eat it. "Sorry for being hungry." he added in a mutter that wasn't quite under his breath.

Memories of their childhood flashed to him, and something occurred to him that hadn't before. Could Dean's ferocious appetite as an adult have something to do with the fact that he'd lived off of gas and motel food for so long? Sam supposed he'd been pretty happy to start eating better, but he'd had too much on his mind to really care about something like that. But Dean, stuck with Dad and out hunting...he probably didn't have a lot of things to take his mind off the job...except for eating...sleeping...and girls. He'd never thought of it that way before. "Forget I said anything, I was just kidding."

"Didn't sound like it." Dean muttered sullenly as he drowned his fry and let it rest in a sloppy, red grave.

Sam sighed. What was he supposed to say? "Well, I was. So would you please just eat?"

Dean paused before he began to eat again and a similar relish overcame his expression despite himself.

Sam watched his brother, again without meaning to, it was just hard not to. He'd tried to be like his big brother for most of his life, he knew the other better than anyone. But watching him now as a kid, while being an adult himself, he was seeing more about the other than he'd realized.

"So we got any leads?" Dean asked through a mouthful of burger. But there was a faint grin on his face that Sam suspected had to do with the fact that Dean was excited about being on a hunt. It was his first. At least, in his present state.

"Like I said before...the teacher is our best bet. The girl that disappeared ten years ago was the first victim, and the last for a decade. If we find out more about her, we might find out more about our case."

Dean finished his burger and quickly gulped down his fries before he washed it down with his soda and met Sam's gaze. "You got somethin' to say?"

"Huh? No.."

"You keep starin' at me. I get that it's different for you, I mean...it is for me too. But you're freaking me out."

"Sorry." he said, a bit sheepishly. "Seeing my big brother as a kid again...yeah, I guess 'different' is a good start."

Dean eyed him a moment before he toyed with his straw as he asked his next question. "How'd I do it? Kill the thing that killed Mom."

Silence descended on the table a moment before Sam replied. "I told you, Dean, the colt. You shot him."

"But...just like that? What happened?"

"...We, you, Bobby, another hunter, and I...got in a fight in a graveyard and you were able to shoot him."

Dean considered that information before his brow furrowed. "Where was Dad?"

"What?"

"Dad wouldn't miss that fight...where was he?"

Sam stiffened as he realized what he'd inadvertantly admitted, and Dean seemed sharper than he remembered. "He was there too. But he got knocked away trying to protect us, that's when you got the gun and were able to shoot." Which wasn't a lie, it just implied a different sort of truth.

"Oh."

"He was really proud of you, Dean." Sam said softly, and he saw Dean perk up instantly.

"He said that?" Dean was almost eager.

Not in so many words that he knew of, but... "Yeah."

Dean seemed thrilled and he leaned back with a satisfied look on his face. "I am way too awesome."

Sam rolled his eyes as he finished his burger. "Keep telling yourself that, bro."

Dean stuck his tongue out in reply before he rose from the table as Sam did and headed out with him after Sam had paid. "Hey, Sam...?"

"Yeah?" Sam paused to look down at his brother as they reached the Impala.

"Are you..." he hesitated.

"What?" Sam prompted as he set a hand on Dean's shoulder to reassure him.

Dean only seemed more uncomfortable as he slid away a bit and looked up at Sam. "Are you...glad that we're hunters?"

"What do you mean?" he wasn't quite sure what the other was getting at.

"...Forget it." Dean said, once again trying to dismiss a subject he'd started as he climbed into the Impala and buckled himself in. Sam followed but he didn't start the car.

"Dean...it's like I told you...we've saved a lot of people..."

"I know! So forget it! It was a dumb question!" Dean snapped as he turned to look out the window pointedly.

Sam watched his brother with a frown before he spoke softly. "There was always one thing that I was really glad about becoming a hunter for."

"What's that?" Dean muttered ill-temperedly.

"Getting to hunt with my big brother."

Dean's eyes widened slightly as his head jerked towards Sam as if to gauge his seriousness, and Sam tilted his head long enough to give his brother a solemn look before he focused back on the road. "That's..." he bit his lower lip and then finished with a faint smirk. "You're such a girl, Sammy."

Sam sighed but smiled faintly anyway. "And you're a brat."

"Hey!"

Sam chuckled as the engine roared to life and he took off for Quiet Oaks College.

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**WHOOT! Alright. Fluff should be done for now, next chapter we'll be visiting Angela Adams! Muwahaha! By the by, can anyone tell me if Bela is alive and what the status of her relationship with the bros is? And Ellen and Jo are quite dead, right? _ My internet's wonky right now so I can't look and I gotta head to work, but it'll help me to know these things later. *plots stories at work* XD I'm on season three! Almost done with it. Ish. Then three more seasons and I'll be all caught up! XD And that's when I'll touch on things like Cas. I could probably...try. But I don't want to screw anything up. So I'll wait. XD Thanks for the reviews and such peoples! They made me do little happy dances and such. XD~**


	10. What Memories Do Bring

**I am so uninspired for this now that I've finished through five and sneak-peeked at six. If Cas doesn't get redeemed, I will hate life. ;-; Dean just keeps getting betrayed by the people he loves, it's heart-wrenching. I suppose that puts this story after Cas becomes 'god' under the assumption that they had fled. Bwah. I really wanna write on post season 6. As in. Pertaining to Cas' ascencion. But we'll see. XD Agh. Destiel is win, but their bromance is pretty awesome too. And Wincest. Wincestiel, anyone? XD *babbles on* Anyway, if I had known then what I know now, there would have been more angst-ful reminiscing and such. Dean-angst and Sam-Hell-angst XD So...I'll go ahead and tie in a little something to explain the lack of it later because I'm OCD like that. XD Agh. Writing this is killing me. I can't get into it nowww. I've spoiled it for myself. *tries to fight the angst* XD**

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"Huh. Looks pretty boring to me." was Dean's assessment of Quiet Oaks College as Sam parked the Impala and the two headed for the entrance. At least, until he saw a young girl holding the hand of a mother, apparently escorting an older child to their dorm, and he flashed her a winning smile. "Might not be so bad." he amended, and the girl flashed him a shy smile back that caused him to grin until Sam thwacked his head.

"Settle down, Romeo." Sam rolled his eyes. Dean wasn't nearly the womanizer as a boy that he would later become, he'd been too busy...looking after the family, but that didn't mean he didn't still have certain...charms. As Sam had reluctantly been forced to admit after seeing his big brother charm just about anyone (especially girls) out of just about anything.

He'd thought it over and decided on being a reporter from two towns over as his cover, researching the budding disappearances in association with that original one. An officer would have been preferred, but he couldn't explain away taking his little brother on the job as an officer as easily as he could as a reporter. "Remember, Dean, you let me do the talking, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah." Dean agreed a bit annoyedly, but he didn't have much of a choice if he was to be able to stay with Sam and 'not get in the way'. "Just don't screw it up." he added for good measure and he gave his little brother a lofty look as if to assert his big brotherly dominance despite, or rather, because of the situation.

Sam simply gave a faint shake of his head as a reply as he found his way to Angela Adam's classroom after being directed by the main office. He found a moderately attractive woman at work grading papers and he coughed to alert her to his presence.

"Yes? Can I help you with-" she looked up to see Sam and paused before she finished, "-something?" The woman's eyes roved over Sam quickly before she met his gaze and rose, and Sam wondered why it was that older women seemed to find him so attractive. At least she wasn't groping him. Or Dean, for that matter.

"I'm hoping so." Sam adopted a friendly tone and smile as he moved to introduce himself and Dean stuck close by his side. "My name is Davis Walters, I'm a reporter for the Sun Times over in Wethersfield. This here is my little brother," at that, Dean scowled, "Kyle. I was wondering if you could help me out on a story I'm writing."

"Oh?" she shook his hand. "I see...well, what sort of story are we talking about?"

"The disappearances around this school." 'Davis' supplied and the woman stiffened a bit before she inclined her head.

"I suppose...that it would be a newsworthy topic. But I'm afraid I don't know much. Students have left and not returned, it's very hard on all of us."

"I'm sure it is, and I'm sorry to pry. Is there anything at all you've noticed? Any small detail?"

"...There's nothing I can think of. The girls were all well-liked, it's a tragedy." Angela said quietly and she gave her eyes a quick swipe and coughed.

Sam gave her a pitying look that held sympathy he didn't truly feel before he asked. "How about ten years ago...I heard that you might know about a girl who disappeared then...Moira Jameson?"

"Who sent you?" Angela suddenly asked as she stared at him with wide eyes before she caught his confused look and settled a bit. "That is..."

"Just heard it around town, that you and she used to be friends...it was the best lead I had...if you could tell me anything..."

"It was a long time ago. I don't really remember...I'd forgotten about it until you brought it up."

"Even with all the other disappearances?" 'Davis' queried.

Angela gave him a sharp look. "It's been ten years...look, as I've said, this is a difficult time...I think it's time for you to leave."

"Ah, I'm sorry if-"

"-It's no trouble. Just-"

"Can we stay here?" Dean piped up suddenly, and both Sam and Angela fell silent as they regarded Dean who tugged childishly at Sam's shirt, much to the other's bewilderment.

"Huh..?"

"I like this school! I wanna go to this one! She's pretty!" he pointed to Angela in a hushed whisper as he gushed like a child.

Sam knew instantly that Dean was using a con, and a mixture of agitation and the urge to be impressed by his devious little older brother came over him. But there was no way that the con would fly, what ten-year old talked like that anyway...

"Your brother is sweet." Angela nearly cooed as she smiled, a bit flushed, and Sam fought the urge to let his jaw drop.

Dean buried his face in Sam's side a bit, shyly, and Sam could see her all but melt. How the Hell did his brother pull that one off?

"Yeah...sweet." Sam agreed as he set a hand on Dean's head and ignored the fact that it was somehow strangely...nice to have Dean all taking refuge against him. Aside from the fact that it was a con, Dean was his older brother, and there was entirely too much going on for that to be even mildly permissible as a thought. "My brother has good taste." Sam added suddenly as he recalled how she'd looked at him upon his entrance and by some unnatural miracle, she flushed again and tilted her body to the side a bit, coyly.

"You're too kind."

"Just honest." In a really not honest kind of way. "Well...I guess my brother and I will leave now, sorry to have taken your time..."

"O-Oh...well...I'm not as busy as I thought, if you wanted to stay a bit longer..."

Sam offered her a reluctant look, as if he didn't want to leave either before he shook his head. "I've got to finish my article...and if you don't know anything..."

Angela hesitated a moment before she blurted out. "I...remember Moira...I might be able to tell you a few things, if you stuck around..."

Sam stared at her in surprise before a covert pinch from Dean brought him back to his senses. Was he missing something, or had a ten year old just manipulated the situation better than him?

"Please, Davy!" Dean tugged on his shirt and cast another shy glance at Angela, who was more receptive to Sam due to Dean's apparent affection for her and the fact that it made Sam look rather...sweet.

"Well, if I won't be taking up too much time..."

"Not at all!" Angela said dismissively as she came around to lean against her desk and Sam didn't miss the faintly suggestive movement of her legs. "So being a reporter...that must be exciting?"

Sam fought the urge to leave while Dean hid a smirk at his side. "It can be...but we were going to talk about Moira?"

At the mention of Moira, Angela seemed guarded again and she hesitated between her apparent desire to keep Sam around and her reluctance to speak of her. Finally she said. "Moira was...I was her best friend. She wasn't well-liked...she was considered 'odd'. A lot of people thought she worshipped the devil...which was ridiculous, but..." Angela shrugged as though it was beyond help. "One night...she just...went out and never came back."

"And no one saw anything?"

"...No. It was much like these disappearances...but they couldn't possibly be connected. That was ten years ago." Angela said with a frown.

"It's just something I was asked to look into." Sam explained. "Did Moira have any other friends, any at all?"

Angela hesitated before she shook her head vehemently. "No."

Her denial and behavior rang all sorts of alarms for Sam. "Are you sure? No friends, not even a boyfriend...?" The way Angela stiffened told him that he'd guessed correctly. "I just need a name, Angela, please...I really need this story...I would never reveal you as a source, and I'd be really grateful." he flashed her a smile.

Angela hesitated before she bit her lower lip. "And it would be between us?"

"Of course."

"James Holliwell. On and off. Moira wasn't...well...James was..."

"Yes?" Sam prompted.

"He liked her more than...she liked him...but he was devastated after her loss..."

"And do you know where I could find him?"

Angela hesitated again before she muttered. "He works at an auto-shop on Mayfair street, the Raceway."

"That's great...Angela, thank you for your help...if you think of anything else, give this number a call..." he handed her a slip of paper.

Angela blinked and then smiled coyly at him. "Very smooth, Mr. Reporter." she all but purred and Dean hid a snort of laughter with a cough.

"And you're welcome back any time, cutie." she said as she pinched Dean's cheek and this time, it was Sam who had to hide a smirk as Dean flushed and took an uncomfortable step back.

"Erm...thanks.." he muttered, embarrassed before he turned and made his way out of the room, followed by an amused and similarly embarrassed Sam. Angela had been hiding something and reluctant to name James as Moira's boyfriend, and her behavior...why should something that happened ten years ago upset her so?

Unless she had something to do with it.

**...**

Back in the Impala, Dean smirked triumphantly at Sam. "You don't havfta thank me, Sammy. I know you couldna done it without me." he said, smug as he snuggled his back against the seat and flashed his smirk at Sam.

Sam fought the urge to roll his eyes yet again. "'She's really pretty'? Laying it on a little thick there, huh, _cutie_?" Sam couldn't resist taunting the other a bit and Dean flushed again as he glared faintly before he looked away.

"A-At least it worked! And don't say that!" Dean demanded, embarrassed again. Being made fun of by his own little brother...what was the world coming to? "I helped you." he muttered.

Sam paused long enough to consider that, and to consider Dean's view on the situation before he reached his hand over to ruffle Dean's hair lightly. It was a patronizing gesutre, sort of, but it wasn't intended as such. He couldn't help it, not with Dean the way he was. "Yeah, you did. Thanks, bro." he praised and he saw Dean light up and smile before he put on his 'cool' reserve and settled for something smug although he was clearly fighting a happier grin.

John had never been big on praising. You did it right, or you did it again plus overtime and a possible butt-kicking. There was no 'good job', it was 'do it right, or else'. So he supposed that Dean was eager to be of use, and that, yes, even a few simple words of praise would light the other up like a Christmas tree, as he'd just noted.

"So...we're going to that guy's place next?" Dean queried, unintentionally breaking Sam from his thoughts as the latter switched gears and started driving.

"Yup. Angela was hiding something, we'll see if James was doing the same."

"You think he offed her? Maybe Angela helped?"

The matter-of-fact way that Dean spoke of it bothered Sam and agitated him more than he cared to dwell on. Lest he hunt down his father's spirt and beat him soundly. For a ten-year old to be so stoic and casual about murder...he knew full well that Dean wasn't as nonchalant as he pretended. Far from it. Dean was a wellspring of emotion when one hit the right buttons...but at the same time, he was definitely desensitized to the whole thing. And it bothered him that his big brother had gone through that. Sam had too, but never as severely as Dean had. He recalled Dean being woken up at four or so in the morning to train while Sam was left to sleep, he recalled Dean's tale about the shritga and their father not looking at him the same, the way Dean held their mother while she cried over John. Dean hadn't had a childhood, not even before their mother died and he'd just sort of taken it for granted. Dean was strong. Dean was his big brother. Dean was just like John.

But that wasn't true. Like Dean had said, Sam was more like John and he couldn't deny that. Dean had been raised hard but he was softer than he showed and Sam...he'd been (compared to Dean) relatively pampered as a Winchester boy could reasonably be but he'd turned out chillingly. Not that the demon blood hadn't helped but still...all the sacrifices Dean made, all the pain he'd endured, his miserable life, shrugging one responsibility for the next...

Sam had thought about it before but never so clearly as now. As now that he, with all of his knowledge, got to see Dean as he was.

"Sam? Earth to Sam, come in Sam." Dean prodded and Sam blinked as he realized that he'd missed out on answering Dean's question.

"Uh...maybe."

"'Uh, maybe'? Where's your head at, man? You're acting so weird.." Dean complained as he shook his head and looked out the window.

Sam eyed his brother with a troubled frown before he forced himself to focus on the road and the mission. "Maybe I'm just too old now." he muttered, more to himself. But luckily Dean mistakenly interpreted as a smart-ass comment and scoffed.

"Old and a giant. But it's not your fault you're a freak, Sammy. Don't worry. I still love ya." Dean teased, his smirk returned.

Sam felt a catch in his throat at those words. That was right, he had almost forgotten. Dean and he, Dean _especially_, had never been exactly the touchy-feely types. But as kids...they'd just been so close, things like the 'love' word just came out naturally. Hell, sometimes they couldn't even sleep without saying their proper little goodnights. And hearing Dean say something like that now...it wasn't that it made him nostalgic, per se, but still...

"I love you too, Dean." Sam felt the words push past his lips from some long untouched portion of his heart and they bubbled up somewhat miserably, caught in his throat. How long had it been since he'd used those words in a sentence? Since Jessica? And now they'd gone and slipped out because...Dean had gotten cursed? What the Hell was wrong with him? It wasn't that it was a lie, or wrong, but...suddenly he was all emotional? Had he gotten a little curse of his own without knowing, or was seeing little Dean really that much of an eye-opener?

Dean stilled then to look at Sam in concern as he finally realized that something was up. "Sammy? What's wrong with you?" he leaned forward in his seat to stare at his brother with a frown.

"Nothing, forget it." Sam tried to dismiss it but he knew better and sure enough, Dean smacked his arm.

"Hey, stupid! Tell me what's wrong!" Dean glared. "Quit actin' like you're grown up or somethin'. I don't care how old you are, you're my little brother so quit being weird and tell me!" How much simpler Dean made things, as opposed to older Dean who's idea of comfort was telling Sam to shut up and _not _get emotional while he used some Dean-ish effort to comfort him. Like a beer. Or crappy jokes. Damn he missed those right about now.

"I missed you. That's all." Sam finally admitted and he wasn't even sure why. There was some turmoil of emotion in him that he couldn't explain. Something that felt loose, and broken, and that felt the better for Dean's presence. But hadn't it always been that way, Dean comforting him?

"Missed me?" Dean's brow furrowed. "Did I go somewhere?"

"...Things are different when we're older, Dean."

"Different how? I thought you said we were still...y'know...close and stuff.."

"We are." Sam reassured him. "But we're..." What could he say? They had next to nothing in common? Hell, if Dean had been a student he'd met at school, he'd had proverbially turned his nose up at Dean. Not to be an asshole, but Dean was kind of an asshole, and Sam was...a 'nerd'. Dean was morally slanted and Sam was-or at least, had been-morally upright. Growing up, they'd not had much chance to be too different and back then, it had been Sam clinging to his big brother. But now? "We like different things." he finished lamely.

Dean stared at him as if expecting more and when nothing came, he prompted. "So...what? I like red and you like blue. I like ACDC and you like Moz-...whatever that dude's name is...I like coke and you like pibb...this isn't new stuff. What's your point?"

"It's complicated." Which was the wrong answer.

If looks could melt flesh, Sam would be a puddle of goo. "Say that again and I _will_ kick your butt, Sam. That's how crappy adults lie. I'm not stupid. Tell me what you mean." he demanded.

Sam didn't see a way out of this, or a suitable lie, but the truth...? "I guess...I've just missed you like this..."

"Like what? Little?" Dean was puzzled now and a bit affronted, it seemed.

"...Happier." Sam relented and gave a partial truth. Child Dean had been, although not the typical happy child, _happier_. More open. More affectionate. Less cool-guy and more cool-big-brother. Sam had reveled in that in the wake of their father's less-than-affectionate nature, until he'd gotten older and taken it for granted. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed it until he and Dean had started hunting together, not at first, not reeling from Jessica...but later...and when he'd nearly lost Dean, well that had brought the point home. Sam needed his big brother, point of fact. And Dean needed him...or rather, had been convinced that he did. Dean's whole outlook on life revolved around taking care of his family, which wouldn't be so bad, if he didn't exclude himself in the equation.

"...So I'm not happy?"

"It's not that..it's just...a lot's happened, Dean. It was hard on all of us."

"Like what?"

"Just...stuff."

"What kind of stuff?"

"Stuff, Dean!" Sam snapped, and he regretted it instantly. Dean recoiled and gave his brother a deep frown before he looked away and stared out the window in silence.

"Dean..."

No response.

"Dean...I'm sorry I snapped at you."

No response.

"Dean?"

After a moment's pause, Dean mumbled. "It was really bad, huh? That's why you won't tell me...was it...my fault?"

Sam's jaw clenched as he struggled to find the right answer. Why the Hell had he thought his brother's childish state wasn't all that bad again? "No...it wasn't...nothing was your fault, Dean." Excluding Dean's going to Hell. And a few other little things. "You'll remember when you're big again, but right now, just...let it go, Dean. Please."

Dean fell silent again before he nodded and stared down at his feet instead and Sam bit his tongue. What could he say now anyway? This whole situation was strange enough without the nagging feeling that something was missing bugging him. And the emotional roller-coaster he was dealing with with his brother, both as an adult, and as a child, well what was the source of that? Were they really just that tense? And what if the thing that attacked Dean came back? He couldn't really protect himself as a child...

"Sam."

Sam's gaze slipped from the road long enough to catch sight of his brother's blank expression as Dean regarded him.

"If you don't wanna talk about it, then fine. But quit worryin' about it, 'kay? Whatever's wrong...we'll fix it together...or somethin'. But quit being so moody. It bugs me." Which was Dean's way of saying that he was worried and he didn't like seeing his brother looking upset.

Sam smiled faintly and reluctantly pushed away those thoughts. It wasn't good to dwell on them but he needed to be prepared, he needed to reason things out, he needed-

"_Sam_." Dean's voice was annoyed.

"Sorry. I'm good. Focused." he amended.

Dean huffed a bit but relaxed a little anyway. After a moment, he said softly. "Hey, uh...you know I...you know. Loveyoutooright?" the words came out rushed and Sam's brow furrowed.

"I...love you too." Dean rushed the words a bit. It wasn't as easy to say them to his big little brother as it was to his clingy little baby brother. But he felt that he needed to say it because he...knew, just knew Sam was feeling worse than he was saying. Call it big brother instinct, but there it was.

Sam stared at him so long that he almost hit the car ahead, until Dean shouted, "Watch the road, dummy!", and Sam slammed on his breaks just in time.

"You get a scratch on her and so help me, Sammy..." Dean warned, sounding much like his older self in that instant.

Sam finally smiled in earnest, small though it was as he responded to the last bit and ignored the car bit. "I know you do. But it's still nice to hear it, definitely makes me feel better. Thanks, big brother." he used the title on purpose.

Dean's cheeks darkened a bit between pleasure and brotherly embarrassment as he mumbled, "Yeah, well...s'my job." Dean seemed to bask in the moment even as he shifted uncomfortably before he reached for the radio and ACDC came blasting out. Dean seemed almost relieved and let the music fill the car before he leaned back and began singing along, and Sam fought between a smile and a loss of focus again.

"C'mon, Sammy! _We're on the Highway to Hell! Dun dun dun! Highway to Hellll_!" Dean grinned when Sam gave in and began singing along, and the tension in the car eased.

But it didn't dispel the ominous feeling in the air, or Sam's misgivings, the sense of something just beyond his reach.

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**I considered putting the visit to James in here as well. But I thought this was a good end-spot, also opposed to the end of the meeting with Angela being the end spot. Didn't mean for all the emotional stuff to pop out, but it did, and hopefully it was well-enough explained (while maintaining mysteriousness) XD It's not out-of-character! Really! There's logic to this madness! Maybe. XD Ah well, I tried. And yay for Highway to Hell foreshadowing-ish! XD~and this being the longest chap I've done in awhile! XD~**


	11. Nights Between Brothers

**Whoot! *tries to finish writing before I fall asleep* XD Illucida...your reviews never cease to amaze XD~ **

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"Well, this is it." Sam peered up at the Raceway from the windshield of the Impala and Dean at his side craned his neck to see.

"Looks kinda...dumpy." Dean remarked as he noted the flecked paint, slightly crooked sign, and general lack of business. Which was odd, compared to the rest of the rather immaculate buildings around it.

Sam had a bad feeling about the whole thing that he couldn't quite place. And that feeling of loss, that something that lay just beyond his reach, still remained with him. "Stick close to me, Dean, alright? And remember what you promised." he added as he glanced to his little big brother.

Dean frowned, not much caring for the adult-routine from his baby brother regardless of the circumstances. "Relax, Sammy. I can take care of myself."

"_Dean_." there was a warning in Sam's tone and it made Dean glower, far from pleased.

"I know what I promised, alright! Let's just go!" Dean quickly exited the car and Sam sighed before he followed suit and the pair headed inside.

Old-time posters lined the walls and cheery ads about cars mixed with some nearly provocative posters of females and vehicles. Yeah, compared to what he'd seen of the rest of Quiet Oaks, this seemed more out of place. Maybe more suited for the Westland side of town which made him wonder about the situation. The owner unwilling to sell or a similar reason? And also, faintly, he caught a scent that he recognized all too well...

"Can I help you with something?" A thin, pale-looking man with close-cropped black hair and faintly bruised-looking eyes entered the room and addressed them from somewhat of a distance.

"Ah, yes, I hope so. I'm looking for a James Holliwell."

"That's me." the man said simply as he tilted his gaze from Sam to Dean and back again.

"Excellent...I'm a reporter for the Sun Times over in Wethersfield, my name is Davis. I was wondering if you could give me a moment of your time." Sam prompted before he noted the way that the man's eyes fell on Dean. "This is my younger brother, Kyle, he's in my care." he said simply by way of explanation, and Dean flashed the man a shy smile (although with far less charm than he'd given Angela) and the man didn't seem pleased.

"What does a reporter want with me?" James asked, and he retained a position form them at a distance.

"Just to ask a few questions, regarding the disappearances-"

"-I got nothing to do with those!" the man replied instantly, and Dean tensed protectively at Sam's side which both exasperated, amused, and warmed him.

"Of course not." Sam soothed. "I'm just interviewing people who may know something about a different case...one that took place ten years ago, a Moira Jameson..."

"Get out. Get out!" The man shouted.

"Sir, if you would just-"

"I said get out!" he shouted and Sam inclined his head and took his leave quickly. Dean didn't bother trying to sweeten the man up as they headed back to the Impala.

Once inside, Dean regarded Sam levelly, looking a bit older than his years as he 'talked shop'. "He's hiding something, for sure. And did you see what he was wearing?"

"Huh?" Sam's brow furrowed as he struggled to recall.

"There was a symbol on his neck, I bet it was important. Here, see...?" Dean grabbed up a notebook and pen stashed in the side of the car and scribbled down a passable likeness of what he'd seen. "Like that."

Sam had seen similar symbols before...back when they'd thought that the professor had revived his dead daughter, but it had been her boyfriend. He really hoped this wasn't the same sort of case, but the symbol more or less confirmed something of that nature.

"You seen it before, Sammy?" Dean queried as he studied his big little brother's expression.

"Yeah...I might know what we're dealing with after all but I need to do some more research...you're right though, he's definitely hiding something...and good job on catching the symbol. I didn't even notice. Really good, Dean." he added as once again, Dean's expression lit up and he flushed with pleasure.

"Yeah, well...I am pretty awesome." Dean said 'modestly'.

Sam found himself tempted to smile yet again. After so long without, it was amazing how readily this little version of his brother could make him feel...like Sammy again. "You really are, Dean." he agreed, and Dean seemed a bit embarrassed at that.

"We aren't gonna get all girly again, are we?" he asked a bit nervously.

Sam had to chuckle at that. "Not if you don't want to."

"I dun'want to." Dean replied quickly. "Let's just go back to the motel and do...research."

It was Sam's turn to study his brother, and damned if he wasn't endearing like this. Not that his older self wasn't as well, but...it was an eye-opener, for sure.

Back at the motel, sure enough, he double-checked the symbol and confirmed it as one of the symbols he'd seen during the previous 'zombie' case. "Crap." he muttered. But moreover, the scent that h'd caught, he was sure that it was a faint bit of sulfur. That suggested demons, but based on the other evidence, that didn't seem as likely. And true, the original disappearance was ten years prior but he doubted that it was a demon collecting deals that was the cause of the strange disappearances, that wasn't the way that they operated. Moreover, the symbol, not to mention the man's behavior, were both incriminating.

Dean popped up beside Sam who was hunched over his laptop intently and he lifted his arm as Dean squirmed to up next to him and peer at the screen. "Find it, Sammy?"

Sam nodded. "I think we're dealing with a zombie. Possibly James tried to bring her back, but it could be someone else."

"So what do we do?"

"Stake them to their own coffin, basically." Sam explained.

"What?" Dean looked a little queasy about that.

"What's wrong, Dean? Not looking forward to icing your first zombie?"

Dean shot his brother a frown as he moved away and plopped down on a chari. "I'm not scared." he announced, and Sam lifted a brow.

"Didn't say you were, bro."

"Yeah, well..." Dean trailed off awkwardly. "Just saying." he muttered.

Sam eyed him a moment before he motioned to the bed. "You should probably get some sleep."

"What about you?" Dean tilted his head, distracted for the moment from his need to defend his 'manhood', as it were.

"I don't need much sleep. I'll just-"

"'Don't need much'? Dad would kick your butt if he heard that! You know how important it is! If I'm going to bed then so are you!" Dean said firmly. John stressed the importance of keeping their minds and bodies healthy and alert, ready for anything and besides which...it was also Dean's job to ensure that Sam followed through. The whole nine yards. Sleep, dinner, brushing his teeth...stuff like that. Watching Sammy was Dean's job.

"Dean..."

"Don't 'Dean' me, Sammy." Dean said sternly as he marched over and frowned up at his brother. "I mean it. You need sleep too."

Sam considered arguing, or even knocking the other out, but it wasn't worth it either way and he didn't doubt that Dean would win if only for sheer persistence. Stubborn brat. "Fine. Get ready for bed and give me twenty minutes, and I'll sleep too."

"Really?"

Sam smiled lightly. "Really."

Dean eyed his brother suspiciously before he nodded and tromped off to the bathroom where he shot a warning glance at his brother before he began doing what of his nightly rituals that he could.

Sam sighed and rubbed at his eyes. He hoped that Bobby was having luck in tracking down a cure for Dean, because from what little he'd seen, he hadn't found something even close. He'd planned on spending most of the night researching, but clearly Dean wasn't about to let that happen...

Which was how, twenty minutes later, he found himself getting ready for bed too. And how he found himself faced with his brother's dilemna. And how he solved it quickly.

Sam tossed one of his shirts at the night-shirt-less Dean. "Here, wear this."

Dean examined the item and frowned. "You're a giant, you know that? Like seriously...bigfoot or something.."

"..Thanks, Dean." Sam said dryly.

Dean scrunched his nose before he slid the shirt over his bare form and it hung largely around his thin body. "It's like a dress." he complained.

"Just get in bed, Dean." he said, faintly amused, although his eyes and mind were elsewhere they roved over his brother's small form. Dean was so helpless, so fragile this way, and the responsibility he was now handed weighed on him. This was more than the usual lives-in-each-other's-hands stuff...this was Dean's life depending on Sam utterly. He was a kid. A damned tough, smart, and way-too-wordly kid.

But still a kid.

Dean huffed and climbed into bed as Sam finished his own routine and made sure the door was locked and salted, and the windows besides, just in case.

Sam looked over at Dean before he stared to make his makeshift bed on the floor again, stopped by Dean.

"Um...what are you doing?"

Sam looked over to his brother. "Getting ready to sleep?"

"On the ground?" Dean eyed his brother as though he found his behavior very strange.

"Well...yeah...there's only one bed, this is how we slept last night."

"Huh...? I made you sleep on the ground?" Dean seemed confused by that.

"We were arguing." Sam offered helpfully and that seemed to clear up Dean's misgivings a bit.

"Got it. Well, we aren't now so get your butt in bed." Dean ordered and Sam nearly refused on principle. But he couldn't deny this little Dean, damnit all.

"You wanna share a bed. With me?" Sam clarified, a brow lifted.

Dean gave him an _are you stupid_ look. "Uh, yeah...? We share beds all the time, genius."

Not in years, they hadn't. But damned if some nights he didn't want to curl up next to his big brother again, feel safe like that again. And there was no way to explain that to Dean, no way that wouldn't probably cause that little face to fall again. "Silly me." Sam finally murmured as he moved over to the bed. "Scootch over." he gave the order this time and Dean squirmed his way to one side of the bed as he waited for Sam before he got in and pulled the covers up over them. Sam tugged the light off and fell silent a moment as he sat on his side awkwardly, well aware of his brother's nearness and breathing. The last person he'd slept with had been Ruby. The last person he'd slept with and really given a damn about was...Jessica. And before that, Dean and once in a blue moon, John.

"Jeez, Sammy, you act like I'm gonna bite you or something." Dean muttered and Sam wasn't sure if he was hurt, or merely annoyed. "Move closer." Dean ordered.

Sam stared at his brother in the very dim light, and Dean looked at him expectantly. Thoughts of arguing were pushed aside as he obediently humored the other and scooted over a bit, not sure what to expect until Dean slid right up alongside of him.

"You're too big to hold." Dean muttered in complaint.

Sam blinked in surprise before his gaze softened and he felt a wave of tenderness for the small form beside him. His larger arms slid around the boy as he held his brother close. "Guess I'll hold you for a change, huh?"

Dean didn't reply, but he tucked his head in the crook of Sam's neck a bit and he suspected that the other was-needlessly-trying to hide his embarrassment. But he knew the other was pleased all the same.

Dean's small chest was pressed against Sam's larger one as the pair breathed in rhythm a moment before Dean finally relaxed and settled against Sam, tucked up in his arms. "I guess it's okay...being held for a change...but don't get used to it or anything." Dean added. "I'm still the big brother. Holding's my job."

Sam smiled in the darkness and couldn't resist the urge to brush his lips against the other's forehead. "Damn straight." he said, quoting his brother softly. "Night, big brother."

Sam chanced the endearment and he felt Dean toy with his shirt a bit before he pressed a quick return kiss to Sam's cheek and muttered a reply. "Night...little brother."

Dean stared at his brother for a long moment in the darkness as he thought over the day that they'd had, over their situation. It was unbelievable but that was kinda their life, right? It was weird as Hell, having Sammy be bigger and acting all...grown up. And he liked what he saw. Sam seemed strong. Smart. He could take care of himself but still relied on Dean, he definitely liked that. But still...he was kind of sad. Dean wouldn't mention it, of course, but...secretly, he'd hoped that once they'd killed their mom's killer...they could just sort of...start living. Have a real home. And a Christmas tree. And stay in a not-crappy school and do...kid stuff. Like family vacations instead of hunting trips. Not that it wasn't awesome that they hunted, or that their dad was a superhero, but still...

Dean's eyes finally closed as he allowed himself to burrow against his little brother a bit, reveling in that warmth and comfort as he drifted off to sleep, but he wasn't the only one with a lot on his mind.

Sam, in the darkness, stared at his brother as well and pondered their situation. They would find a cure, he'd make damn sure of it, but in the meanwhile...he would have to be careful. If anything happened to him, Dean wouldn't be reached by Bobby for at least a day. It was dangerous to have Dean in the city, let alone up front, especially with the monster being what he suspected it to be...but Dean was here, and Dean was a kid, and they were both just going to have to deal with it.

Dean burrowed in closer to him and Sam's thoughts turned away from those more grim ponderings and his own feelings of misgiving as he let himself revel in this nuance of their situation for a moment. Dean and he, together again like this...albeit with a bit of a role reversal. Normally it was Dean holding him. Chasing his nightmares away. Just sleeping beside him. Comforting him, being his invincible big brother. Back then, anyway. He'd run away from John, but in a way, he'd run from Dean too and in all the time that he was gone...he'd never stopped missing Dean in that profound way, much as he might have tried to fool himself into thinking otherwise. For the moment, Dean needed him, was relying on him, was _his_ to protect and care for in his vulnerable state. It was different than the way that they relied on each other as adults, this Dean needed Sam utterly. And although he lamented the situation, for the moment at least, he enjoyed it as well. This time, he would protect his big brother.

This time Sammy would watch out for Dean. Because it was as much his job to watch his big brother as it was for Dean to watch him.

Because they were brothers, always.

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**Fluff is just pouring out while writing these two. XD I am mostly motivated again, I think. XD Whee fluff and innocent little Dean depending on his big little brother. And it was ridiculously hard to stay up and write this...but I did. So there. XD Enjoy! And such! XD~**


	12. When The Past Collides

**DUN DUN DUN! Race against the clock! XD Illucida...I would love to see that picture if it ever exists. That's cute about your family : D Kudos for that! Feel free to share more experiences, they are pleasant to read about!~ And thank you for your review. It brightens my existence. XD It's always nice when I work for a few hours and go on break and read a review or that someone faved or something. It's like little balls of happy for my soul. XD~**

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_"Dean. Dean, wake up." a low voice broke the silence of the night in the room where a twelve-year old Dean and his eight-year old brother were sleeping. The alarm clock beside the bed glimmered '4:35am' in red lettering. _

_"Nnn...whazzat?" Dean muttered tiredly as his eyes cracked open and he found his father looking back at him. _

_"Get up, Dean. We have training to do." John spoke quietly so that he wouldn't wake his other son._

_"Dad, we did this yesterday, lemme sleep..." Dean was just tired enough and still unaware enough that he let himself whine. _

_John grabbed his arm and hauled him out of bed where he stood the boy up as he stumbled. "Sleep won't save your life, Dean. You made too many mistakes yesterday, that's why we're up earlier now." he explained, talking less quietly as they exited the room and Dean wearily pulled on his shoes. _

_"Well why's it just me? Sam didn't do that great either.." Dean muttered sullenly._

_John was silent a brief moment before he shook his head. "Your brother isn't the one I'm counting on. It's your job to watch after Sammy. You can't make another mistake." John didn't have to go any further for Dean to know that he was talking about the incident with the shritga. _

_Dean's expression flared with guilt before he lowered his head and then straightened. "I know." he whispered, and there's a wealth of remorse in that pair of words. _

_"Good." John ruffled Dean's hair lightly. "You're ready to train then?" _

_"Yes, sir." Dean replied. _

_The dream flashed to a scene about forty minutes later, a sweaty, bruised Dean sparring with his father._

_"Again, Dean. I said again, you can do better." John growled and Dean came at him with a kick but was shoved to the ground. He lay in the mud a moment with a wince before he rose, tired and pained but determined. _

_And again, he came at his father._

_The dream flashed again to Dean as he stumbled back into his room with a faint smile. John had given him partial praise, a 'good work' and a pat on the head before he'd been sent off. He took a quick shower to wash off the blood and grime before he headed back to his and Sam's room of the motel and started to crawl into bed. _

_"Dean..?" Sam's soft voice entered the room. "Where were you?" he murmured sleepily._

_Dean paused before he turned and sat on the edge of Sam's bed as he put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Went to the bathroom." And it wasn't a lie, he didn't lie to Sam, it just wasn't the whole truth. "Just go back to sleep, 'kay? I'm here." _

_"I had a nightmare." Sam's voice was quiet. Sometimes his nightmares reduced the boy to trembling and tears, and other times it just...quieted him, hurt him. But always, Dean was right there with him to wipe his tears and hold him, to chase those nightmares away. _

_Dean grimaced before he rubbed the other's back soothingly. "What happened?" _

_"Fire." Sam whispered and Dean's expression blanked a moment before he paused and then ordered, "Scooch over." _

_Sam blinked and obediently wiggled a bit away as Dean crawled into bed and under the covers beside Sam as he slid his arms around the smaller boy and pulled him close, holding him tightly. _

_Sam burrowed against his older brother, clinging to his warmth, craving his protection and the safety of his big brother's arms. He buried his face in the other's shirt and sniffed._

_Dean mock complained. "Don't go getting snot on my shirt, Sammy, or else." he warned playfully as he poked the other's side, "I'll tickle torture you!" he announced._

_Sam gave a little squeal and scrunched up against Dean as a smile finally curved his lips. He was too tired to play in earnest, but he loved his brother's nearness and affection all the same. "Tomorrow." he murmured and Dean chuckled lightly. "I love you, Dean. Night." Sam murmured endearingly as he nuzzled the crook of Dean's neck and settled against his big brother._

_"Love you too, Sammy. Night." Dean murmured back as he pressed a childish, big brother kiss to Sam's head and fell asleep with the boy in his arms, never too tired to take care of his baby brother. _

_That was his job, after all._

Sam awoke with a start and he recalled the dream perfectly, every detail vividly as though he'd witnessed it only moments ago, as an onlooker. He might have almost thought it a dream, except that he _remembered _it. That part, anyway. Where Dean had come in, he could vaguely call upon that memory for himself, a memory now refreshed by the images before him.

And God, did they suck.

Sam, if he thought hard enough about it, supposed he could recall at least a few instances where he'd woken and noted his brother's absence. But he'd never dwelled on it. And there were plenty of times he'd gotten dragged out early, but never like that...and Dad had never...pushed him like that. Dean had been bleeding and so tired he'd been shaking but he'd kept on fighting, he didn't want to disappoint his father...

Or fail his brother.

Guilt flickered in him as he glanced over to Dean...and found the boy's eyes up at the ceiling, just...staring.

"Dean?"

Dean didn't reply at first, didn't move or blink and for a horrible moment he feared something bad had happened. Right up until Dean tilted his head to Sam and said softly. "That happened, huh?"

So Dean was aware of the dream too. Just what the Hell had happened last night? "I think so. I don't remember for sure..."

"So you...know about the shtriga?"

"Yeah...I know you killed him and saved a bunch of children doing it."

Dean's quiet mood seemed to energize at that as he gazed up at Sam with wider eyes. "Really?"

"Mmmhm. It was unfinished business, so Dad gave us the hunt and you killed him."

"Dad trusted us with that hunt?" Dean seemed taken by surprise.

Sam inclined his head. "Yeah, he knew you could do it, he was counting on you to finish it and you did. "

"Dang..." Dean seemed mildly in awe a moment before he frowned at Sam. "So what was that...we had the same dream?"

"Looks like." Sam wasn't going to mention the fact that it wasn't normal, even by their kooky standards. His experience with shared dreams had been demonic or root in nature, and neither boded well. But what was with the dream, or rather, memory? As Sam recalled it, he felt a new wave of sympathy wash over him for his brother. He knew that Dean did the big brother thing out of love, of course, but partially as well...wasn't his dogmatic determination at least a little to do with being all but brain-washed into believing that it was his responsibility? That if anything happened to Sam, it was his fault?

"Hey, Dean-" Sam started, but he was cut off as Dean yawned loudly and interrupted.

"So, Sammy, what's for breakfast?" the boy shot him a leery grin, and Sam frowned lightly. He was certain that he'd been purposefully interrupted, for starters, but furthermore, he found Dean's reaction to their dream...connection odd. He'd just...accepted it. And about the shtriga too...

"I guess we'll head back to that cafe and see if Lynette is working. So far she's been the only one who seems to know anything and want to talk about it. And I'll have to check out James' shop later, not to mention his house, and Moira's grave.." at that point, Sam had begun simply musing aloud but a bit of pronoun use caught Dean's attention.

"_We'll_."

"What?"

"_We'll_ check out the shop and house, and the grave. You're not doin' it on your own, Sammy."

"I know you want to help, Dean...and you're a great help," he amended as he saw Dean's eyes narrowing, "But you know how it is...Dad didn't take us on break-ins, and I know he didn't take you hunting at...your current age. Just cause it's me doesn't mean I can let you either. I know it doesn't fair, but-"

"I'm going, Sam." there was that familiar, stubborn set to his jaw that when Sam was younger, would have been just about the end-all as far as they were concerned. But Sam was, in this strange circumstance, older and there was no way he could justify bringing Dean along.

"You're not, Dean. I'm sorry. You're a great hunter, _someday_, but right now you're ten years old. Dad wouldn't let you go and you know it, I'm not letting you either."

"You're my little brother! You can't tell me what to do!" Dean protested.

"Maybe not that you'll listen to, but I can handcuff you to the bathroom sink." Sam said grimly. He'd had some experience with that, as it happened.

"You wouldn't dare."

"Try me."

Dean glared at Sam, clearly fuming, and Sam stared back calmly. "You're a real brat, Sam, ya know that?"

Sam didn't dignify that with a response, just shook his head as he rose to start getting ready.

By the time he returned, clothed and cleaned up, he found Dean wearing an ACDC shirt and perched on the edge of the bed with a sour expression. He didn't look at Sam as he entered and he figured that he was about to receive a dose of the silent treatment, and he would have just ignored the other right back except for- "You stole that shirt."

"Yeah, so?" Dean replied as coolly as he could. "You kept pickin' out old dude stuff, so I got somethin' I liked. Doesn't matter, we steal all the time."

"We steal what we have to." Sam corrected.

"Well. I had to have a shirt that wasn't for dinosaurs." Dean shrugged as though it were matter-of-fact and Sam's jaw clenched. That wave of sympathy was fast riding out in the wake of his brother being a pissant.

"Don't act like this, Dean. Please? You know I can't take you with me, and I don't want to fight with you." Especially not after...how wonderful things had been the night prior. Like they used to be. Sam moved to stand before his brother and Dean rose to glare up at the other.

"I'm great, you said so yourself! I saw something you didn't even see! I'm strong! I can help!" Dean's defiance, his need to assert himself, his desperation, Sam could see it all. Their father had drilled it into him. Responsibility. Dean pushed himself beyond his limits and expected more of himself than was marginally reasonable. He'd seen that too many times. The way that Dean carried the burden of every life that ended in their presence, as though it were personally his fault. Everyone that they couldn't save.

"I know you can, Dean. Believe me, I know it. But I need you here. If anything happened to you...you're all I've got man, you and Bobby." he admitted softly in the hopes that it would quell the other a bit.

Sure enough, Dean's expression became less vengeful and more reluctant. "...But...I don't want anything to happen to you eith-" he paused as something occurred to him. "Me and Bobby..not Dad?"

Sam cursed himself mentally. "Of course Dad. That just goes without saying."

Dean stared hard at Sam now. "Somethin' you're not telling me, Sam?"

For one long, horrible moment, neither of them says anything. And for that one, horrible moment, Sam is afraid that he'll have to.

And then the phone rang with some rock tune and Dean snatched it before Sam could reach it. Dean glanced at it a moment and then back at Sam, his eyes faintly narrowed as if to say 'this isn't over' before he answered. "Hello? ...Uncle Bobby? Yeah, this is Dean...uh huh...yeah...oh, okay...he wants to talk to you." Dean seemed a bit put put by that but passed Sam the phone anyway and watched Sam carefully as he talked to Bobby.

Sam avoided his brother's gaze and pointed scrutiny as he rose and headed for the kitchen, but Dean simply huffed and followed where he leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed.

"Bobby? Yeah, I know..he's shown no signs of change, mentally or physically...you got anything, Bobby? ...That's great, I appreciate it. Ah, a zombie, we think." Sam glanced at Dean as he said pointedly. "Dean found some resurrection symbols...Yeah...but I thought I...smelled sulfur...Yeah, I know, I'll check just in case...thanks again, Bobby." Sam hung up the phone and passed it back to Dean.

"Well?" the boy prompted impatiently.

"He's checking out a few avenues for you, he might have a witch doctor friend that can help you out."

"That's good." Dean relented.

"He's not sure about the sulfur though."

"Sulfur." the way Dean said it was almost a question and he seemed vaguely embarrassed. He hadn't realized that there was sulfur and Sam could almost see Dean mentally cursing himself.

"There's no reason for a practioner of this kind of resurrection spell to associate with a demon, but in all the years I've hunted, I've never had a place just smell like sulfur without a demon."

"But we can't kill demons." Dean looked faintly troubled as he sat down on the edge of the bed, and Sam moved over to the nightstand where he pulled out a gun.

"Actually...we can. This gun, and a knife can kill demons. Actually, this gun can kill about anything. We have exorcisms that'll send them back to Hell, but that takes time, and we've had them...come back before. Angry." Sam recalled Meg, for example.

Dean's eyes widened as he hopped off the bed and stood by Sam to examine the gun, and Sam held it carefully but lowered it so that Dean could inspect it.

Dean brushed his fingers over the cool metal almost reverently, his expression one of awe. "Where'd we get it?"

"...It's based off of an older gun...Bobby made it." Sam hedged.

"Bobby? How'd he do it?" Dean was curious, intrigued by the weapon.

"Ah...he had help."

"From who?"

Sam hesitated. He couldn't mention a demon, there was just too much explaining associated with that. "Someone we fought with. She's dead now."

"Oh." Dean let the matter rest at that, assuming that it was some friends of theirs that had died. He lowered his hand and let Sam pull the gun away, and after a moment, he asked casually. "So about Dad."

Sam mentally cursed. "What about him?"

"Where is he, Sam?"

"...I told you, Dean. He's on a hunt."

"Really?" There was skepticism in Dean's voice as he gazed up at his brother.

"What do you mean 'really'? Where else would he be?" Sam didn't like lying to Dean, he never had, and it wasn't for years that he really could. He'd lied to older Dean easily enough but lying to this one, that was turning out to be a different matter. This was harder.

"You tell me."

Sam couldn't tell Dean that John was dead. John was his hero. His father. His _dad_. The man hung the moon and the stars as far as Dean was concerned, and there was no way he was going to put Dean through his loss...again. And this time as a child no less. Sam had to steel himself and lie, because there was no way that he could tell the truth. Sam looked down at Dean and spoke evenly. "He's on a hunt, Dean. We lead separate lives now, he doesn't come by or check in like he used to. He counts on us, Dean. And we don't let him down." Sam hated to manipulate the situation by tugging at Dean's sense of duty and family loyalty, his obedience to their father, but it was better than the alternative. He had to wonder how aware of that his father had been when he did similar things. Did he just really believe what he said, or did he know that by tugging on Dean's heartstrings and sense of duty that he could make him...how he was.

Sure enough, Dean straightened and seemed to accept that. "No, we won't. So I'm coming too." Back to that, it seemed.

"You're not, Dean. End of discussion. Dad would kill me if I let anything happen to you."

Dean scoffed. "Kill you? He'd shoot me if I let you out of my sight."

"Trust me, it's not you he'd be shooting." Sam recalled the night he'd left for Stanford.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"...Just that if I left, it wouldn't be your fault."

"If you left where?" Dean frowned.

"Nowhere! I wasn't talking about leaving, just what Dad would do." The leaving issue was something else that he couldn't explain. Little Dean wouldn't take that well, certainly Dean hadn't even when he was older. Sam didn't remember Dean being quite so perceptive either, he'd been sharp, but this was ridiculous. He was attacking every little thing Sam said, and the way he'd just gone along with things earlier that morning...he wondered if maybe Dean's change wasn't as thorough as he'd thought. Maybe aspects of his older self were shining through?

"Fine. I'm still going." Dean said as he headed for the door.

Sam had been going to take him to the diner, but that now seemed like an impossible idea. For all he knew, Dean was going to make a damned run for it just to force the issue and he couldn't let that happen. "Dean..." As the other started to open the door, Sam sighed as he came over and kept it closed with one hand as he stood looming over Dean. "You're not going." he said softly. "Don't make me handcuff you."

Dean glared up at Sam as he turned around and tried in vain to stand a bit straighter and be a bit taller compared to his brother. "Get out of my way." he growled.

"Dean..."

"Stop doing that! You're not Dad! You're my _baby brother_."

"Yeah, well not at the moment, _kid_." Sam snapped back, now irritated.

Dean looked mildly as though he'd been struck and he stared up at Sam for a long, silent moment.

"I didn't mean-"

"-I know what you meant." Dean said quietly as he pushed past Sam who caught him by the arm.

"Dean, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said-"

Dean cut him off again as he shrugged him off. "Shouldn't have, but you did. So whatever. Just go."

"Dean."

"Go!" Dean snapped, and he didn't turn around.

Sam stared at his little big brother's back, and he wanted to reach out to the other...but instead, he said softly. "See you, Dean." And then he grabbed his supplies, and left. Sam would try to make things quick and bring the other some breakfast. He hated to leave things as they were, but as long as the other wasn't going to do something stupid, then he had to take advantage of that. A sulking Dean was better than one in danger.

Dean covertly watched his brother leave as he peeked out from behind the curtains as he replayed those words in his mind. Was that what Sam thought? He was just some dumb kid now? Who did he think taught him all his moves anyway? Dean, that's who. Well, Dad, but Dean had trained with him and practiced with him, and taught him other things. And Sam had been acting funny, he felt like he was missing something and like...Sam had lied. But what about?

Dean's cell phone was left on the counter and he frowned as he headed over to it and clicked up his call list. Bobby. Sam. Some names he didn't recognize and numbers that had no name. But as far down as he scrolled, he didn't see one call to or from his father. What did that mean? Dean pulled up his contacts and found one for his father, and clicked send.

_Ring_. _Ring_. "_Hello, this is John Winchester_-"

"Dad! It's Dean, I-" The message went on and Dean slumped a bit, disappointed. When the message clicked, Dean spoke. "Hey, Dad...it's Dean...I must sound pretty weird, huh? I got cursed, I think, so I shrunk...but Bobby's helpin' us find a cure...don't worry, I'm still watchin' out for Sammy. I'll keep him safe. You can count on me. So...call me back when you get this, if you can...and...love you, Dad." he hesitated and then clicked the message off. Dean knew that his father rarely answered his phone first try, if at all, but it was disheartening all the same. He really wanted to hear his father's deep baritone, to be soothed by the other. As long as John was around, everything would be okay...

Already a couple of miles away, Sam heard their father's phone ringing in the glove compartment. They'd eventually found the phones that the kid who'd gone joy-riding in Sam's body had tossed, and they were still functional. He fished it out and nearly answered, until he saw who the caller was. A couple of minutes later, it dinged with a voicemail and after a moment's hesitation, he listened and heard his brother's younger voice through the message. And a few parts stuck out in particular for him.

"_I'm still watchin' out for Sammy. I'll keep him safe. You can count on me...love you, Dad_."

Sam's throat tightened as he clenched the phone before he saved the message and put the phone away. Even after their fight, Dean was still focused on his job as big brother, still making promises to their father, still...more an adult than child in a way that had nothing to do with having grown up already. Dean's childhood was more like a crash course into adulthood, and that put a pit in his stomach. At least if he'd had a decent adulthood, it might have meant something but instead...it was just more crap. One responsibility after another, betrayal after betrayal, loss after loss...was it any wonder his brother had been so jaded, so broken? Especially after Hell...

The memory he'd witnessed the night before flashed through his head, as did several others. His brother must have been exhausted time and again, but he'd never really shown it to Sam. He'd always been willing to play, or to watch him, or to comfort him. When Sam cried, it was generally Dean who'd wiped his tears away or bandaged him up if he'd gotten hurt. It was Dean who helped him with his routines, making sure that he was cleaned up and fed, and taken care of. It wasn't that John didn't fulfill that role, it was just that he was gone a lot, or busy a lot, and he had just...relied on Dean to take care of those kinds of things and Dean had never complained. He did what their father told him, what John expected of him, and what Dean therefore expected of himself. What had Sam done for Dean, really? He'd idolized his big brother back then, striven to be like him, but as he'd grown up and wanted out of that lifestyle he'd pushed himself further away from Dean and Dean's demanding attempts to curb him had angered him. The way the other treated him like a child. But now that he really put things into perspective, he had relied on Dean for those things and even when he'd decided that he could do it himself, Dean still thought of it as his job. His duty to his father and his little brother, to his family. So even when he'd 'grown up', didn't it make sense that Dean was ingrained in his whole being to do those things anyway? So when he'd left, and when he'd told Dean that he would leave again when the hunt was over, when he'd gone with Ruby, when he'd fought with Dad...was it any wonder Dean had been so angry and hurt? Sam had thought Dean was being unfair but now, maybe he'd been the one not thinking things through? Sam wouldn't have made it without Dean and in many ways, Dean wouldn't have made it without him, but...it had been a long time since Sam had truly come to Dean as a little brother, he'd been trying too hard to be equal, and at one point, to exceed him. Dean didn't want Sam under his thumb, he just wanted his little brother. And for the first time, Sam believed he really got the distinction.

The thought of Dean sitting alone, worried and upset, missing Sam and their father, after what he'd said too... "Damnit." Sam cursed as he made a sharp left at the intersection and headed back for the motel. There was no way that he could just leave Dean behind, he would figure something out and protect the other. But he wasn't going to do to Dean what their father had done for years, especially now that Dean was stuck there alone after being effectively shot down by his little brother. Sam realized only now that for Dean, that was probably a special kind of Hell. The duffel beside him in the passenger seat started to slide and he grabbed it to keep it from falling and when he did so, he noted something. Sam kept his eyes on the road as he rummaged through the bag in search of a certain item, an important item that he was regretting having shown Dean, particularly when he pulled his hand out empty.

The colt was gone.

"_Dean_."

Dean, with the colt slid in the back of his pants, walked down the street with his hands in his pockets and his eyes on the crowd. He would help, whether Sam liked it or not, and he'd show the other he wasn't just some 'kid'. Dean's cell phone rang in his pocket, and he had no doubt that he knew who it was, but screw it. He'd let Sam know where he was once he was finished.

Once he'd killed the demon.

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**Dun dun dun! I woke up about two hours early by chance so I was able to finish this! Although I didn't get a chance to post to my other story ;-; ah well. XD Fluff, drama, angst, and mild action galore! Just to clarify, Dean's aware that it's not certainly a demon, that it could be a zombie but he sticky-fingered the gun like the little expert that he is and will kill whatever baddie he can find. XD I'm full of indecision where this is concerned. Originally I just wanted a case where Dean got de-aged, now I've set it up for something mildly grander that's going to give me headaches to sort out XD and I am toying with the idea of Sammy get shrunk for a bit too. I am also toying with Dean getting his right mind back while he's still little, possibly before he grows again and Sam shrinks. Granted, I'm not sure doing either of those is technically the best route from a story-vantage...but I really want to write on those ;-; So we'll see. XD And see how I tie it in with all the present nonsense...IF CAS DOESN'T GET REDEEMED, I WILL HONESTLY CRY. ;-; XD~ And yay for brothers, and this longest chapter of this story, I think. I added some more monologue, mostly on Sam's end, in the car XD just to pass the 5k point, but I think it works in the story better anyway so...it's not cheating or anything! XD~~**


	13. Down the Barrel of a Brother's Gun

**Someday, Branch, someday...I will make you say 'Great job' and possibly even use an exclamation point...someday. XD Thanks for the reviews, people, or the comments, as it were. Happy bursts abounded at work. XD Yes, yes. I have to figure out how to coordinate it, but there will be right-minded-wee-Dean, and wee-Sam when Dean's big again. But I want adult Sam to see some more memories...so maybe I'll have them knocked unconscious as an excuse for more dreams so we don't have to wait several nights. XD I really wanna see Cas' reaction to Dean but there's not a good way to bring him in, especially without going WAY AU...so I have a plan-ish. XD and there will be a bonus chapter at the end of the story that will be somewhat crack-fic-ish of right-minded-wee-Dean and Cas. Possible weeDeanminded and Cas as well. XD *sometime later* So I set my alarm for four...so I could do a bunch of writing and I laid in bed for like 20 mins...and then I got up and realized it was 5:20...so I think I must have dozed, even though I could have sworn I was partially conscious the whole time. XD Just felt like sharing. XDD**

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"Dean? Dean!" Sam had burst into the motel with a sickening feel in his gut. He wanted to believe that Dean wouldn't do this, if not because Sam didn't want him to-then because he ad better sense, because their father had raised them better, because he was...just a better budding hunter than that. But Sam knew, just _knew_ that Dean was already gone and the colt with him. Why? Because he was used to his brothers antics, large or small, that was why. Dean hadn't sticky-fingered the colt for fun, he was going to prove a point. Or try, at any rate. Sam was not at all confident in his possibility of success.

So back into the Impala he went as he tried to ring Dean again. Dean didn't know where the cemetery or home were, so he'd likely gone back to the Raceway. Without a plan, in broad daylight, after being kicked out already.

Typical Dean.

...

It had been easy enough to imagine himself a grand hero as he snuck out with his stolen goods in hand, or rather, pocket. It was quite another to actually make that vision a reality. The walk had taken longer than he'd anticipated and he'd gotten turned around several times. The confusion and irritation had unsettled the confidence and determination he'd garnered and he'd begun to wonder if perhaps, he had acted a bit too hastily...

_"Yeah, well not at the moment, kid." _

Or not.

That one sentence, the thought of his little brother looking down at him with that superior look on his face, the other's whole attitude...it was enough to keep him refueled right up until he found himself crouched beside the Raceway building. Even after he'd heard about a dozen messages from Sam starting out worried and descending into stern and angry in a worried kind of way. Well, that was that. Going through the entrance was a bust, there was a window he could shimmy into...from there, he could...climb into an air vent and wait until the creep was gone? Yeah, sure, that sounded like a good plan...

Several falls on his face and a clattering garbage can later, Dean found himself in through the window and on the floor of what appeared to be the back room. Boxes and tools littered the area and there was a stair case up where another two sets of doors leading into an office and the main area were. He remained still a moment and tried to ascertain if there were any sign of movement upstairs. Maybe he'd get lucky and the creep wouldn't be present. Seconds ticked by into minutes and he allowed himself to inch along, careful to avoid boxes and tools alike and thus avoid noise. His father had taught him well, after all.

Dean took a quiet step forward, his eyes on the stairway ahead when he found himself jerked by the collar of his shirt. He gasped in surprise and started to turn when a hand clamped over his mouth and he found himself pulled roughly against someone's stomach. "Mmmf!" he made a muffled sound of protest as he squirmed, and the hand at his mouth gripped more tightly, almost painfully so and his eyes tilted up to see a furious looking Sam gazing down at him. He recognized that look. It was all in the eyes, whenever his brother got really mad, he'd just...use those eyes of his. Kind of like when he wanted something, but evil eyes, not puppy eyes.

"Amee." 'Sammy' came out muffled as well as he looked up at his little brother with a mixture of relief and dismay.

Sam glared down at him a moment as he spoke lowly. "You..." he let that hang, a wealth of unspoken threats and chastisements in the air.

Dean tried to muster up an apologetic glance and tug Sam's hand away, but Sam seemed determined to leave him in that uncomfortable position a moment. When he finally did lower his hand, Dean inhaled heavily before he spoke quietly, in case the man was upstairs. "Sam...uh..."

"Where's the gun, Dean?" Sam interrupted coolly, and that's how else he knew that the other was pissed.

Dean winced and he couldn't even begin to put on an attitude at the moment as he reluctantly fished it out of his pocket and handed it to Sam, whose expression had relaxed not at all. "Guess you beat me here..."

Sam didn't appreciate the weak attempt at humor and his glare didn't ease up either. "We're already here, so we'll check it out. But this isn't over." he warned and Dean finally scowled, that was a bit too...not little brotherly at all. "Stick close to me."

"Who died and made you boss?" Dean muttered.

The comment hit closer to home than Dean realized, not too mention Sam was already stressed enough, having not been sure that he would reach his brother in time amongst other things. Anger flickered into his expression as he put his thumb and finger on either side of Dean's neck and gave it a painful squeeze.

"Ow!" Dean jerked away and stared up at his brother in protest and surprise.

"Stay quiet and stay close, Dean." Sam said, his tone steely, and Dean opened his mouth to argue until Sam's eyes narrowed and he fell silent. This was all wrong, but at the moment, Sam could probably, or rather, certainly kick his butt.

Sam slipped the gun into his own 'pocket' as he moved up the stairs with Dean at his side, monitoring his steps carefully. He didn't hear anything upstairs and hadn't seen signs of passerby on the way in, so he hoped that it was closed for the time being, or at least that James was out. He was damned glad that he'd made it in time. Sam had waited for Dean in the spot he'd known that the other would come.

There was a creak upstairs and Sam stilled, causing Dean to run into him and nearly stumble back until Sam caught him by the arm. Dean gave him a sheepish look and he let the other go to continue up the stairs. The creak seemed to have been just a typical noise of the place. In the event that they were caught, however, he'd brought an officer's badge anyway, not that he had legal right to snoop around without a warrant...but it was better than nothing. They reached the door and Sam hesitated before he slowly slid the door open...

...And found an empty hallway.

Relief mingled with a sharpened sense of caution as he moved Dean forward a bit and kept him close.

"Sam! Look out!"

And then everything went black.

_"You walk out that door, don't you ever come back." John Winchester shouted at his youngest son, who looked taken aback a moment. _

_"Dad! ...Sam, he didn't mean that.." Dean tried to repair the damage, the situation had quickly spun out of control. _

_Sam didn't spare his brother a glance, just looked resolutely at his father for a long moment before he opened the door...and walked out of it. _

_"Sammy!" Dean shouted and he headed for the door but John caught him by the arm. _

_"He made his choice, Dean. He'd rather abandon his family and the mission, that's his choice. Leave him be." John said lowly._

_"But-" _

_"Dean." John's voice was sharp, a command unto itself._

_Dean looked furious and his fists clenched, but he muttered. "Yes, sir." he through gritted teeth and with a last, frustrated look at the door, he walked away from his father. _

_Twenty or so minutes passed in a blur in the memory as Dean stormed outside. The night was dark and chilly, but he didn't have his jacket. Just a flashlight and a knife, in case. He stalked across the street into the awaiting trees and he looked no happier than he had those twenty minutes prior.._

_Dean didn't stop walking until he was surrounded by trees and had come to a small ravine with a faint flow of trickling water. He glared ahead before he picked up a rock and hurled it. "Argh! Damnit! Sonuvabitch! Damnit! Fuck! Agh!" Dean hurled curses into the air and made shouted noises of frustration. Anger and hurt warred in his expression before he whirled around and slammed his fists against a tree, over and over, until wood splinters dug into his knuckles and made him bleed as his skin tore a bit. _

_He paused for a moment, breathing heavily before he grabbed the amulet at his neck. "You bastard!" he hurled the amulet away and glared after it as it fell some distance away in the darkness. _

_Dean gave another punch to the tree and winced when his already raw skin was slammed on and he clutched his fist as he leaned his shoulder against the tree with his head down. His breathing slowed and his shoulders hitched a bit as his head lowered, and in the moonlight, the glistening of a few tears could be seen on his cheeks. "Damnit, Sammy...it's not supposed to be this way...we're supposed to stick together...what the Hell am I gonna do without you, bro...?" he whispered mournfully into the darkness. "Sammy." the word was almost a plead, almost a prayer, filled with his want and his need as if that alone could summon his beloved little brother back to him. _

_But not even the sounds of the forest greeted him, only a lonely, bleak silence._

_Dean brought his hand up to his neck and only then, feeling nothing, did he realize what he'd just done. "Crap." he muttered as he looked in the direction he'd hurled the necklace. "Just great..." _

_The dream flashed through the hours of pouring over the forest-floor with his flashlight till several hours after sunup when a sweaty, grimy Dean finally clenched the amulet. Dean traced a finger against it, staring down at it with a bittersweet expression before he let out a low laugh, a strangled sob. "Sammy." _

Sam's eyes shot open again, as though jarred from the dream-memory and he struggled a bit as he found himself tied up beside..."Dean!" The boy had a line of blood trickling from his head and he wasn't moving. "Dean!"

At his side, Dean moaned and his eyes fluttered open. "Sammy?" he mumbled.

"So...Kyle and Davis were lies, huh? And you're not a reporter either?" James stood by the door, they appeared to be in an office of some kind, tied up on the floor. The colt lay on the table and a woman sat beside James, lounging on the desk.

"People will come looking for us." Sam warned, ignoring his questions and getting straight to the point.

"Really?" The woman tapped her chin thoughtfully. "You mean like...Bobby Singer? I think we can handle him." her eyes flashed black and a moment and Sam cursed. There had been a demon after all. "What I can't get over is that cute little brother of yours."

By now, Dean was awake, and he glared at her. "I'm his big brother, you..._bitch_." He seemed rather confident for having used that word, but he shirked a bit as she rose and moved closer.

"Little Dean Winchester...too cute."

"Hey! Black-eyed skank! Aren't you a little old to be playing with kids?" Dean shot his brother an indignant look as Sam borrowed a phrase from older Dean and tried to distract the demon from Dean.

She shot him a sideways glance before she returned her attention to Dean and gripped his chin. "Being protected by your little brother...that's kinda pathetic, isn't it? Poor baby." she crooned and Dean stiffened before he spit in her face.

"I'm not a kid." he growled, the best response that he could think of. And he had to at least look brave in front of Sam, despite the fact that he was feeling less than brave at the moment, to put it mildly.

The woman frowned slowly and wiped the spit from her face before she grabbed a fistful of hair and forced Dean to look at Sam. "Compared to him, you are. In fact, I bet he hasn't told you anything, has he? About all the nasty things you two have done...you've been screwing angels, and Sam here, well he was playing for my side. And that's just for starters."

At this point, Dean only understood 'screwing' to mean something more like messing up, so he didn't quite catch the reference. But 'angels' caught his attention and his eyes widened, particularly as he noted the tense expression on Sam's face. "What...do you mean?"

"Don't listen to her, Dean, she's a demon. She's lying."

"Oh ho ho. Big words coming from you, Sammy-boy. I know all about you...and all about how you and Ruby went at it like dogs in heat...but hey, she always was such a bitch." Ruby wasn't popular with anyone, it seemed.

Dean's hair was released and he looked between Sam and the demon in confusion. He had no idea what they were talking about but clearly Sam didn't want him listening to he was inclined not to...except that he was curious...what all did she mean?

The demon went back to the desk and picked up the colt, which she examined before she 'playfully aimed it between Dean and Sam while she further 'examined' it. "Gotta say, she did nice work on this gun though."

Dean's brow furrowed as his mind struggled to connect the dots. He was pretty sure that the woman had implied that Ruby was a demon but that didn't make sense, Sam didn't hang with demons, and furthermore hadn't Sam said that a friend had made the gun? Then again, he hadn't, had he? Just that she was dead...

She put the gun back down and smiled at Sam. "Well then, back to business. This is a pretty big catch...Sammy-boy and little Dean, ripe for the picking. Thing is, the boss man's all locked up again so we don't really need you alive anymore, Sam. There are a lot of people who'd like to see you downstairs, or at least, kicked off the planet here."

Sam didn't reply, merely gave her a cold look.

"Oooh, baby! Gives me shivers when you look at me like that...like you wanna rip my heart out." she crooned.

"Yeah, like a demon has a heart." Dean replied snidely, and she turned his gaze onto him.

She smiled slowly as she slid over to Dean and bent at the waist to regard him. "Oh, but I do. It belongs to the meatsuit I'm wearing. I can cut out her heart right now. You should ask Sam about it, he knows what I mean. He's done something like that to a meatsuit while she was still awake."

"Don't listen to her, Dean!"

"That's right, Dean. Don't listen to the big bad demon...he doesn't want you to know what he's done...doesn't want you to know what he drank to make himself big and strong.."

"What do you want already? Enough games."

"What did he drink...?" Dean found himself asking the question before he could stop himself and Sam cursed.

"Dean!"

Dean jolted and shot a guilty glance at his brother. "I don't want to know." he muttered then.

The demon smiled, a terrible smile. "Sure ya do, pal. Why don't I just show you?" she slid a knife from her pocket and cut a slow trail along her wrist and as red blood welled up she went over to Sam and yanked his head up by his hair as she ran her arm under his nose.

Sam tightened his mouth closed and focused his gaze on the horrified Dean beside him. If he got a taste of the blood, he might be able to use some of his abilities...but he couldn't go down that road, couldn't risk it...and in front of Dean's eyes, this Dean...he might just break if he saw Dean look at him that way as he was.

"Get away from him!" Dean shouted and the demon slowly withdrew. "Keep your nasty blood to yourself!"

"You wanted to know what he drank, I'm showing you." the demon shrugged.

Dean froze at that before he said slowly. "You're crazy. Why would Sam drink demon blood? You think I'm stupid?"

She licked her wrist free of the blood and shrugged. "Believe me or don't, but trust me, Sammy-boy here drank demon blood like it was water. Better than mother's milk, right, Sam?"

Dean's expression was alive with confusion and disgust and he tilted his gaze to Sam and found that his brother was no longer looking at him. "Sam, it's okay, I know she's lying." he tried to reassure his brother, but Sam didn't look at him, and his expression didn't ease. "Sam...she's lying, right?"

Sam didn't want to lie to Dean. But what was he supposed to say? "Demons lie, Dean. You know that." But it wasn't an answer, not really.

Dean stared at his big little brother, and a sickening feeling slid into his stomach. He knew his brother. And everything about Sam suggested...that the demon maybe...wasn't lying.

His baby brother...had drunk demon's blood?

"You know...I think it's time that Deanie here and I had a nice long chat..." she grabbed Dean by the arm and hauled him up easily as she headed for the door. "We'll be back soon, Sammy-boy. As soon as I educate the youth here." she smiled malevolently as she took Dean from the room.

"No! Leave him alone! Dean!" Sam struggled against his bonds anew, determined not to let that bitch-demon hurt his brother. Unbelievable, to be so caught off guard.

A scream from Dean silenced him before he panicked and began straining to break free of the ties. He had to get to Dean-

There was a gargling sort of noise from the hall, and he hadn't even noticed that James had left until he returned in a hurry with a knife covered in blood. "You can turn superman when you drink demon blood, right? Hurry! Kill the demon and let me go and you can have it!" he shoved the knife in Sam's face, the ruby-red drops glittering and a sickening hunger flared in his stomach despite himself.

He couldn't drink it, he couldn't, but if he didn't-

"You little shit." the demon entered the room and Dean wasn't behind her, Sam feared the worst as she stalked towards them.

James had stabbed her and wanted her dead, apparently, and Sam presumed that that meant that he was an unwilling accomplice...or he'd made a deal that he regretted. Sam was out of options...

The demon grabbed James by the throat and hurled him away as the knife clattered to the floor and Sam, his wrists now rubbed raw, slipped his hand out and made a grab for the knife. Sam started to bring it up to his lips, his mind debating all the while on this decision.

"Sam, no!" Dean's cry came from the doorway, Dean had a developing bruise on his cheek and a new line of blood from his head that suggested that the demon had knocked him around and possibly thought that she'd knocked him out.

The demon shot him an angry look before she reached Sam and knocked the knife away as she grabbed him by the throat and hefted him up against the wall where she slammed his head against it and glared up at him. Her hand tightened on his throat as she began to slowly strangle him. "You're so pathetic." she hissed.

Dean had to act fast, his mind was racing, his heart pumping, and he heard a dull roar in his ears that seemed to dim out everything else. It was like things had slowed down and he stumbled to the table where the colt lay. Dean lifted the gun. "Put him down!" he shouted as he took aim-

-And was met with the cold black eyes of the demon.

She gave him a sneering look as Sam made a choking noise, his air depleting fast. "I'll kill you first then."

Dean was frozen. Memories of the shriga flashed through his mind, the horror he'd felt, the pit in his stomach, he couldn't move, couldn't act...but he had to protect Sammy, so why couldn't he shoot? Why wouldn't his finger move?

The demon dropped Sam where he fell in a heap and stalked towards Dean who trembled as he stared, the gun starting to lower as his eyes widened.

"...De...an...Dea...n...Dean, _shoot_!" The hazy sounds beyond the dull roar got louder and louder, until Sam's final shout broke through his haze and he acted on instinct, well enough used to orders as he jerked the gun up and shot just as the demon reached him.

For a moment, she buckled and seemed surprised as the bullet hole in her chest crackled and light exploded within her as she expired and fell to the ground.

Dean stared, frozen in shock and the gravity of what he'd done as he stared at the dead demon, now a dead woman, on the floor.

"Dean-" things were starting to go numb again, things were growing hazy, the room was spinning, what had he done, where was he, why-

"_Dean_." Strong arms slid around him and he found himself pulled against something warm and firm, Sam's chest as the other held him. "It's okay, Dean. You did it. It's okay. We're okay."

Dean's mouth opened and closed before he made a strangled sound and dropped the gun to the ground as he clenched his fists on the sleeves of Sam's shirt and pressed against him as he fought back the sting of tears in his eyes. Anxiety, terror, protectiveness, shock, disbelief, confusion, emotiond whirled within him and he found himself seeking comfort in his brother instinctually. "S-Sam.." his voice hitched. "She...I couldn't...she was going to kill you and I...and now she's.."

"I know.." Sam soothed as he held the other more tightly and rubbed his back lightly. He'd been the same after his first kill. It wasn't the planned-for hunt that Dean's had been. Sam had been thrust into his father's and brother's hunt by accident, and his kill had looked human too. There had been more blood involved, as there wasn't a kill-all colt back then. Sam had been shaken, terrified and near-sobbing, and it had taken comfort and praise from his father, and a great deal of proud-soothing coddling from Dean before he'd calmed enough to be okay with what he'd done, to face it as a good thing and not the horrible nightmare that it seemed.

Dean's breathing slowly relaxed as he shuddered against his little brother, and more or less collapsed against him. "I couldn't move." he whispered. "Just like then...with the shriga...I couldn't protect you...If I can't even do that."

"Hey." Sam pulled back enough to lift his hand and tilt Dean's slightly watery eyes towards him. "You did protect me, Dean. Then and now. If you hadn't have startled the shriga, she'd have done a lot more damage...and just now, you saved me, Dean. Thank you."

Dean's eyes widened. "I...did? But..."

"It's okay to get scared, Dean. She was a demon. Hell, I still get a little scared sometimes. It's part of the job. But you know what's scarier than demons?"

"What?"

"Your family in trouble. That's real scary."

Dean thought about that a moment before he gave a solemn nod. It made sense. The demon had terrified him, but the weight of Sam's life on the line had paralyzed him, had choked him and... "So we're okay?" he whispered.

"Yeah. We're okay." Sam reassured the other as he ran his fingers through the other's hair lightly and held onto him a moment more as Dean finally exhaled and lifted.

Dean rubbed at his eyes as he stood a moment, and for that moment, Sam looked up at his big brother in silence. Said big brother gave a little sniff as he finally calmed himself down, though admittedly-not without help, and tilted his green-eyed gaze towards his little brother. "Thanks, Sammy."

"Thank _you_. You saved me. See? Best big brother ever." Sam added with a light smile, relieved when Dean grinned a little and seemed bolstered by the comment.

"Yeah, well...I am pretty awesome."

Sam smiled in amusement and mild agreement before his gaze fell on the demon on the floor...and then he realized something. "Damn."

"What's wrong, Sammy?"

"James is gone." And sure enough, the weasel had escaped.

Dean looked around then scowled before he recalled something and turned his eyes to Sam, troubled. "He tried to give you that knife. The one with...demon blood."

Sam stiffened and his gaze fell rather pointedly on the floor before he forced himself to meet his big brother's eyes as he rose. Dean's eyes followed him up, and the question was clear.

"...What do you want me to say, Dean?" he asked quietly.

"That it's not true! That my little brother doesn't drink demon blood!" Dean looked frustrated now.

"...I don't drink demon blood. Anymore."

Silence fell between them as Dean stared at Sam for a long, hard moment. And there, in those eyes, he could see traces of the way that older Dean had looked at him. Like there was something wrong with him, like he was a freak. Maybe he was. But damned if it didn't hurt, and all the more so coming from this little Dean.

"Why'd you do it?" Dean finally asked.

"...It made me stronger. Stronger than demons. I could save people, even people possessed. I thought that it was the right thing to do...I was wrong. You helped me see that." Or tried, anyway. By the time he'd realized it, it was too late and he'd let the devil himself out of his cage.

Dean stared at Sam and said nothing. This was it. He was about to be shot down by little Dean as well, just great. There went the whole 'wonderful' bit.

So when a small hand slipped into his own and gave it a squeeze, Sam simply stared down at his big brother in surprise.

"Quit lookin' like you're gonna cry, Sammy. You know I hate that." Dean said in a soft drawl. He wasn't about to get all sappy or anything (especially after that chick-flick crap moment that they just had) but he couldn't let his puppy-eyed little brother look so damned miserable. Did he think Dean was gonna just hate him or something?

"Sorry." Sam replied, a faint quirk of relief and amusement curving his lips.

"Yeah, well, don't let it happen again-Sammy?"

Sam's vision darkened as stars flitted about and he was unconscious before he even hit the floor.

_A black and green miasma swirled around and lightning crackled in the cloud-like atmosphere. Chains were suspended from no visible surface and dug into the hanging body, or rather, soul of Dean Winchester. "Sam! Sam! Help me!" he cried out, bloodied and battered._

_The memory flashed to a scene of Dean on 'the rack'. He was so cut up, so torn and bloody, to say that he looked as though he'd gone through a meat-grinder would not do it justice. Again and again..._

_"All I need is a 'yes', Dean...it's been thirty long years...I'll take you off the rack if you'll put someone else on it..." _

_"No..." Dean whispered weakly._

_A whip crackled against his flesh and he cried out as it caught his cheek and tore open with a burst of blood. Alistair started to walk away when Dean cried. "No more...no more...please! No more!" _

_Alistair held up a hand and the whip paused._

_"Dean?"_

_"Yes." he whispered. An answer._

_And just like that, Dean was completely healed and free of the rack as a whip was shoved into his hands and a screaming, barely clad woman was lain before him. His eyes widened. "N-No..." _

_"Then back on we go-" _

_"No!" it was vehement, and his hand shook as he gripped the whip and the woman screamed, begging and pleading. _

_"She deserves it, Dean. C'mon. Live a little. Give back a little of what you've been getting. Feel's good, trust me." _

_The whip raised and Dean hesitated. _

_"It's just you and me, Dean. What'll it be? Eternity as the whipping boy, or...?"_

_Dean's bleak expression suddenly crumbled and blanked, the light in his eyes was gone and he seemed statuesque as he stared down at the screaming woman. There was nothing there. His inhumanity had been ripped, torn, and slashed from him, his dignity, his pride, his sense of self, his family, his memories...they were beaten away or so deep into submission that all there was was primal, animal instinct. The need to survive. To stop the pain. To be the one in control. _

_The whip came down, clumsy but violently hard and the lash split her stomach wide open. She screamed as her blood splattered onto his nude torso and he didn't even flinch. He just kept lashing. Over and over again. _

_Dean was gone. And what remained was merely...a monster._

_The memory flashed again, topside this time as Sam stood with a demanding Ruby behind him a screaming woman in the trunk as he listened to the message that Dean had left. A condemning message, one denouncing Sam as a monster and not his brother. It solidfied his resolve to kill Lilith, to continue even though he knew somewhere deep in his gut that this wasn't right, that he was Sam, and he didn't torture innocent people...but if his brother thought he was a monster anyway...then at least he'd save the world while he was at it._

_The memory flashed once more as Dean flicked open his phone and clicked Sam's number. There was no answer and Dean left a message. "Hey, it's me. Uh...Look, I'll just get right to it. I'm still pissed... and I owe you a serious beatdown. But... I shouldn't have said what i said. You know, I'm not Dad. We're brothers. You know, we're family. And, uh... no matter how bad it gets, that doesn't change. Sammy, I'm sorry." _

Sam came to with a jolt and he struggled through what he'd just seen, even the memory of earlier. Dean had taken his leaving worse than he could have realized, but what else had he thought would happen? Dean had told him in their memories before that it had been one of the worst nights of his life, and now he'd seen it. Then there was Hell...he'd cried out for Sam's help and instead, Sam had been able to do nothing, been going around with that bitch Ruby...and finally...when it was most important, Dean had come through for him _again_ and he'd never realized...he'd had his brother back right then and there and he'd been tricked, tripped at the finish line.

Only then did he realize that a blank-looking Dean was staring at him. Something about his eyes, the tense set of his expression and posture suggested more than that he had seen those visions too.

"Dean? Are you...you again?"

The boy licked his lips and didn't respond at first until he muttered lowly. "I'm not craving a Coke if that's what you mean."

Silence, unpleasant and long came between them as Dean avoided Sam's gaze, and Sam couldn't stop staring.

"Take a picture. It'll last longer."

"Dean..."

"Don't say it, Sam. Not a damned word. Whatever you saw...it's done. So shut up about it."

_"Sam! Sam! Help me!"_ Dean's cries rang in his ears. The sight of his miserable face as he'd left and spoken his name like a sad, longing prayer. The words of forgiveness and brotherhood that he'd missed.

_"Okay. Got it. Loud and clear. You don't want me around, hey, no problem. I'm gone."_

_"I'm still watchin' out for Sammy. I'll keep him safe. You can count on me...love you, Dad."_

_"Love you too, Sammy. Night."_

"You're not a monster, Dean. You couldn't have done-"

"I said _shut up_!"

"-any different. Thirty years is longer than most people would have-"

"-Shut up, Sam!" Dean's eyes were narrowed dangerously now but Sam was determined not to let it slide this time.

"-lasted. You fought for so long, Dean...it wasn't your fault-"

A small fist connected with his face, and it was damned good for a kid but didn't do his older self justice, certainly.

Sam clicked his jaw and tilted his gaze back to Dean. "Feel better now?"

"Sonuvabi-"

Sam put a hand over Dean's mouth and Dean jerked in surprise and scowled at Sam as he pulled back. "It's not your fault, Dean. You're not a bad-"

"What, Sam?" Dean spat. "Not a bad person? You think it was only her? Ten years, Sammy, ten years I tortured people. Just to save my own skin. What do you want me to say? I don't know how the Hell you saw...that. But forget it." he growled. "It's none of your business."

"Not my business?" Sam scoffed. "You're my brother-"

"Yeah? And I was your brother when you kicked my ass and ran off with the black-eyed skank."

Sam's jaw clenched and he tried to remind himself that Dean was only trying to be hurtful to stop the conversation. But it did give him a different tactic to use. "You're right. So I guess that means I'm a bad person too."

"That's...different." Dean gritted his teeth.

"Different how?"

"I _tortured_ people."

"Yeah? So did I." Sam replied coolly.

"Demons, Sam. That's a little different."

"Not all demons." he replied, still moody, but he regretted that quickly.

Dean's eyes narrowed on Sam. "What does that mean?" Sam started to look away and he grabbed a fistful of the other's shirt in his small hand. "What the Hell does that mean?" he growled.

Sam pushed Dean's hand away and fell silent before he admitted lowly. "I needed...blood. Before I faced Lilith. More than Ruby could give me so she had me..."

"Had you..?" Dean prompted.

"It was only supposed to be a demon but the demon retreated, left the woman she was possessing out. I didn't have a choice."

Dean stared. "The Hell you didn't. You're telling me you just...drank a woman?"

Sam's head shot around to glare at Dean. Suddenly his brother was going to be righteous about this? It figured. Not that he wanted to rub Dean's sins in his face either, but he wasn't exactly the only one in the wrong here. "I was going to check with you one more time...I wasn't...I hesitated. But then I got your message and it was all screwed up, you saw that...what I heard was messed up by Ruby..."

"Oh, so hearing me would have made it all better?"

"That's not-" Sam started, agitated before he settled for a scowl back at his brother. "You don't think I feel bad enough? You think I don't _still_ hear her scream?" he asked quietly.

At that, Dean's expression became less hostile. Memories of his first torture flashed in his mind. They did more often than he cared to admit. "I'm sure you do, Sammy." he finally said and the boys lapsed into silence a moment before he met Sam's gaze again. "We're a screwed up pair of brothers, aren't we?"

Sam let out a weak chuckle. "That's an understatement...I'm glad we are though."

Dean gave him an incredulous look. "You're glad we're screwed up?"

"What? No! I'm glad...that we're brothers, Dean."

Green eyes stared silently at Sam, and then the tenseness in Dean's shoulders left as he lifted a hand and Sam grimaced lightly in preparation of a punch...

...that never came.

Dean's small hand pressed lightly against Sam's face and as they stared back at each other, Dean murmured. "Yeah, me too." For a brief second, he let his hand remained before he pulled it back and cleared his throat. "So, if you're done being a girl, maybe we can finish up this case so we can see about fixing me? That little prick is still out there."

Sam grabbed the colt and slid it into his pocket under his shirt as he rose. "Sounds like a plan. But I mean...are you sure you wanna change back?" he asked as they left the room.

Dean glared up at him. "The Hell kinda question is that?"

Sam looked down at his big brother innocently. "I don't know...you're kinda cute like this, Dean."

A mixture of an embarrassed flush and a -you are so dead- glower crossed his expression as he punched Sam's side. "Don't be an ass."

"Language, Dean." he teased.

Dean's expression darkened as he muttered a few choice birds and flipped his brother the bird.

Sam wasn't sure what to make of everything that had happened. The situation, the memories, they had been a real-eye opener and he knew that they weren't out of the woods yet. And he knew that things weren't over. Dean and Sam were starting to be alright again, the trust that had been broken between them was no longer so fragile, and they were nagivating each other more like they used to. They weren't perfect, never had been, actually, but they were getting by. Dean and Sam both had their demons to face, for themselves and each other, but as long as they were together it wouldn't be so bad, right?

_"It's okay, Dean. You did it. It's okay. We're okay." _

As Sam watched his regressed big brother start poking around for clues, he reflected on what had transpired and on those words and decided that, yes...they would be okay. Sam and Dean were brothers, after all, and Winchesters besides.

And the powers that be help anything that stood between them.

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**Thanks for the reviews as always! And my first critique from Illucida! XD I think I caught the misspell, not sure about the missing word but I am not surprised. It was four-something in the morning. XD *many moons later* Yeah, so after my fail-attempt to wake up at four, I didn't get to finish. Considered posting it as it was, which left it off at 'his baby brother...had drunk demon's blood' but I hadn't written in the memory at that point anyway, and wanted the chapter to be longer. XD So. It was a wait. But hopefully worth it. XD~ Thank you for your review Illucida! It makes me want to cry. I feel so bomb when I read them. ;-; *showers you with hugs and cookies* *and Branch too, because of his loyalty and my determination to elicit emotion from him* XD~ And...yay! Several days later, I finished my longest chapter yet filled with angst, brotherly love, fluff, more angst, and some demon slaying bad-assery. Or something. XD~ **


	14. What Monsters Lie Beneath

**Ahh, Branch, your review gave me warm fuzzies. One step closer to my goal of exclamation-point insertion. XD Happy~ Caymus, I am glad you like it! Don't worry, I'll make up for it with Sa-I mean. No spoilers or anything. XD ILLUCIDA! AHH! I was so excited when I read your review. Compliments don't get much better than it being like a scene. Unless it's an original story and not series-related. But this is series-related. So yesh. XD I was all giddy this morning after your review and then I got a bummer review on my other story but then I read yours again and was gleefully despairing. Which is a good thing. XD I adore you people! And I shower you with virtual hugs and cookies. By the by, I'm thinking I need some Sam-clarification. I read that he got back soulless, got his soul, but no memories till Cas broke him down. Do we know what Sam's memories were at all? Or anything? Is there anything relationship-changing with anyone that I should know? And I heard he did something to Bobby? I don't get to watch season 6 till it arrives Sept 13. Because I'm OCD like that. ;-; *been sneaking and watching Dean/Cas moments anyway* Profound bond, much? XD~**

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"Damn, for a grease-house suspected of zombie-crashing this place is pretty spotless." Dean noted as he crouched down and inspected for any visible signs of sulfur while he was at it.

Twenty minutes of searching the Raceway had turned up a whopping nothing, and there was no sign of James.

"I don't think he raised her here, Dean. He'd do it at his house, most likely." Sam noted distractedly as he read over some papers he'd found in a locked drawer. A paper clip had solved that little issue readily enough.

Dean noted that as he rose to join his brother and leaned his back against the desk with his arms crossed as he looked up at the other. "Find somethin'?"

"Maybe. Some incantations...but most of it's not even Latin, I think it's a bunch of crap he pulled offline."

"Alright. Well if his rituals are crap, what brought this chick back?"

"We aren't sure it's her." Sam noted as he perused the last of the pages.

"Let's see. Chick disappears ten years ago, no one wants to talk about it, her boy's running with demons, and, oh, all the girls disappearing now are disappearing like she did. Yeah. It's not got nothing to do with her."

"Thanks for the sarcasm, Dean. Really helpful."

"My pleasure, Sammy." Dean replied 'sweetly'.

Sam glanced down at the other in irritation. They'd gone from cuddly to prickly in zero-to-sixty. But he supposed he could chalk some of Dean's snarkiness up to the fact that he was stuck in a ten-year old body.

"Dude. You're staring again."

"Just wondering why your memories came back all of the sudden. If you were cursed, I dunno, wouldn't they want you still thinking you were a kid? Why go through the trouble and then just give you back your memories?"

Dean considered that a moment before he clapped Sam's arm. "Cause I'm just too awesome to stay cursed right." he said matter-of-factly as he pulled away.

Sam doubted his brother's answer, but he couldn't do much about it. For now, Dean was willing to forego heavy investigation into his situation until the case was finished. Which, he wasn't surprised by Dean's focus on the job, he took it more seriously than he let on. Sam was just surprised that Dean seemed to be taking things so...well. Shell-shock, maybe?

"That demon thing was weird though..." Dean noted. "I thought for sure that dude was casting, but then there's a demon? What's the angle? It can't just be somethin' like _James_' measly soul."

"Guess we'll have to find James and find out." Sam was still surprised that the other had dared to try and stab a demon to give him blood. And the whole situation, him wanting Sam to turn 'superman' and save them all...that just wasn't normal. The more pieces of the puzzle he found, the more it seemed like said puzzle had a very different picture than they'd imagined.

"Back to that diner chick? You said she was our best lead, right?"

"She's the only one talking anyway. There's no point in running after James, we have no idea where to start looking. We'll check Moira's grave tonight."

"Alright, diner it is. I want some pancakes anyway." Dean announced as he made his way to the back entrance with Sam. But this time, there wasn't really anything for him to stand on as there had been outside. The boxes were farther away and likely to cause Dean to fall through more than to prop him up. Dean looked up at the banner-window with a look that suggested that he blamed it for even existing.

Sam noted his brother's hesitation, not to mention irritation, and knew that if he opened his mouth to ask to do what he was about to do-he'd get some sort of threat. So before Dean had a chance to complain he hoisted the other up by the waist and at the window opening.

Dean had started to turn away when he felt hands on his sides and he made a noise of surprise as he found himself lifted up to the window. He shot Sam a dark glare mingled with a flush of embarrassment as he scrambled out quickly and hopped down. The moment Sam was out, he shoved a finger into the other's stomach. "Listen here, pedo-bear, keep your hands to yourself, got it?"

"Pedo-bear?" Sam repeated in amusement as he looked down at his brother. "Get over it, Dean. You're height challenged. It's not a crime."

Dean's eyes widened in surprise and embarrassment. Whether he liked it or not, his expressions were more open and animated on his child's face. "Y-You-"

Sam cut him off. "Aww, do you have a stutter, buddy?" he spoke in a somewhat patronizing tone as he ruffled Dean's hair teasingly.

If looks could kill, Sam would be roadkill in forwards and reverse. "I know where you sleep, bitch." Dean grumbled as he stalked away to the Impala before Sam could do some more damage to his already slighted ego.

"Same to you, jerk." Sam replied, glad to have one-upped his brother a bit and eased his brother's snarkiness somewhat.

As he reached the Impala, he found Dean waiting with his arms crossed and a somewhat sullen expression as he and Sam started into the car. "I should be driving her. She doesn't do good with other drivers."

"I drive her all the time when you want to sleep." Sam noted with a roll of his eyes.

"Yeah, but I'm sleeping then. As long as my eyes are open, I should be behind the wheel."

"Dude, you really need a girlfriend." Sam regretted his words as he spoke them, but he wasn't wholly sure why. Something tugged at his senses again, a prick of something missing, and if Dean's clenched jaw and averted look were any indication, he'd felt something like that too.

There wasn't much to say right after that. They brothers were in the car, Dean was reluctantly riding shotgun, and there was a sense of loss that they unknowingly shared hanging over the pair. Finally, Dean tilted his gaze to Sam and said wryly. "So is it still weirding you out? My, uh, condition?"

Sam was a bit surprised at the question but he answered anyway. "Not as much...it's weirder now than when you thought you were really ten though."

"Say what?"

"I dunno. How would you feel if you heard me talking and acting like you at that age?"

"No offense, Sam, but acting like me would imply a level of coolness you just ain't got." Dean drawled.

"I was being serious, Dean." Sam muttered with a sidelong glance at his little big brother.

"So was I." Dean replied 'seriously' before he looked away with a faint grin.

"It was kind of nice too, though. I missed that."

Dean tilted his gaze back towards Sam with a frown, concerned that this was heading dangerously into chick-flick territory. "Missed what?" he asked warily.

"...You. Me. Being able to talk to _you_. Stuff like that."

"We talk all the time. Just cause it's not all some big Lifetime moment..." Dean muttered, and already he was closing up.

"See? That's what I'm talking about, Dean. You avoid everything. We're brothers. If you don't wanna talk to other people, then fine. But-"

"Dude! Seriously? We're going to have this conversation now? Is this really the time?" Dean hedged.

"...You know what? Forget it, Dean. Sorry I mentioned it." Sam kept his gaze on the road and his expression blank, and Dean gave a little groan that Sam ignored.

What was he supposed to do? Start blubbering just because Sam had a hard on for chick-flick moments and little Dean didn't know better than to keep his trap shut? "You know one of the reasons I hate telling you stuff?"

Sam didn't reply at first, but reluctantly he muttered. "Why's that?"

"Because I shouldn't have to."

Sam blinked before the statement sunk in and he glanced at Dean, who seemed focused on something out the window. "Dean..."

"What do you want me to say? You're right; we're brothers. You're my little brother, Sammy. I've bent ass over backwards to keep you safe, to keep you alive. I'm still with you, aren't I? What the Hell could I say that's any different than what I've done? You want me to be all chatty and cry my heart out? What good's that do? But all I do for you, for this family, Hell, for the world? Isn't that enough? I shouldn't have to narrarate it. You should already know how I feel without me playing Dear Diary every two damned seconds."

Honestly, Dean's words made sense. He understood where the other was coming from, understood that that was just how Dean was, he could get not wanting to talk. But sometimes talking helped and Sam, unlike Dean, wanted to talk. Sometimes, about some things, and usually just to his brother. So yeah, he did miss being able to bring something up and having Dean talk him through it, or share it with him, he missed the other offering his opinion and support, or kicking his ass if he was being 'stupid'. It wasn't that they weren't close, because they were, but...it was a brotherly intimacy that he missed.

"I get what you're saying, I do-"

Dean mock-hit his head on the window in exasperation. "But...?"

"...Who else am I gonna talk to, bro?" he asked softly.

Sam could have said a million things, gone in-depth and given some logical reason, or some emotional one, but in the end he chose the simple and to-the-point response. One that implied that they were all that they had, that he trusted Dean, that Dean was his partner, and it was Dean he relied on and drew comfort from. And yeah, there was more than just talking underlying the whole thing. It wasn't just about talking. It was about the bond they had, one that they'd been jerking back and forth on for too long. Keeping secrets, feeling ashamed, hiding from each other, fighting for no reason, closing up on each other...that wasn't what he wanted and he knew Dean felt the same whether he would admit or not.

Dean was silent before he drew a long sigh and then rubbed his head. "Yeah, well...look, I'll work on it, alright?"

That was the biggest concession he'd gotten from his brother in ages. "Did my brother really just agree to work on his surliness?"

"'Surliness'? Dude...you need help." Dean shook his head and Sam smiled faintly. "Don't get the wrong idea, this doesn't mean we're gonna start having heart-to-hearts or anything...I'm just saying, ya know...I _am_ your big brother. So...if you...need to run your mouth or whatever..." he trailed off awkwardly. "And I mean...it's not like I'd let anyone but you do it, so it's not a total chick-fest..." Which was sort of his way of saying what Sam had just said.

"Sure, yeah, your manhood is intact. Don't worry." Sam agreed, but there was a note of amusement in his voice.

"Shut up, Sam." Dean muttered, but there was no heat in it as he looked out the window and Sam got the impression that he was smiling a bit himself.

And then came the diner.

"Ohh, I remember you. You came back just to see me, didn't you?" Lynette was speaking to Sam, but it was Dean who replied with a 'smooth' smile and a flirtatious tone.

"You and your pie. Sweetest things in this town." Dean was replying reflexively, so when Lynette shot him a somewhat puzzled, somewhat amused look, he remembered all too clearly what form he was currently in.

"Aww, well aren't you a cutie? Is this guy your little brother?" Lynette smiled at Sam.

"Ah, yeah...this is Daniel..." Sam said and he didn't bother glancing at Dean. He could feel the other's glare on him just fine.

"Ahh, I gotcha. Danny here acts just like the other guy, he was a flirt too. But just between us, you're cuter, kiddo." she winked at 'Danny', who managed a thin smile. He shot Sam a covert look that suggested Hell if Sam dared laugh.

Sam tilted his gaze back to Lynette. "Lynette, I was wondering...could you tell us more about what you mentioned yesterday? It seemed like you might have something to add."

Lynette's smile slipped before she shrugged. "It's just all over the news, you know? Big story. That's why you want to know about it, right? Can't tell you much though, sorry." she seemed more tight-lipped than she had previously and Sam wondered if she'd been reprimanded for the prior conversation.

"That's too bad. I heard there was a girl ten years ago who disappeared the same, and I just wondered-"

"Wondered what? Aren't you investigating these disappearances now? A decade is a little old for it to be the same, right?"

"That's what we're looking into." Sam explained.

"Can't help you, sorry. Are you going to order something or...?"

Dean and Sam exchanged a glance before the pair rose. "No thank you, sorry to have taken your time."

As soon as they were outside, Dean spoke. "Talk about a personality change."

"Well, she's obviously been told not to talk." Sam noted as the pair got into the car.

Dean considered that a moment before he grimaced. "You don't think this is another one of those sacrificing-to-scarecrow kinda places, do you?"

"What? You don't want the honor of being some god's dinner?" Sam asked in mock-astonishment.

"Ha. Ha." Dean said dryly. "Cemetary it is."

"I checked on it and there're two between the towns, even dead there's a class separation. Moira was buried in the Westland Cemetary."

"Figures. Let's go burn us a body. Or gut us a zombie. Whatever."

Dean was back, all right.

...

"Put your back into it, Sammy." Dean smirked a bit as he sat by the edge of the grave. It wasn't like he could have dug it up, so that dubious honor fell to his little brother.

"That's helpful, Dean, really."

"Just doing m'part." Dean's smirk remained.

The shovel clanked against something and he rammmed the shovel down on the coffin. A pretty literal example of pay-dirt. And when he bent down and pried it open, he found it empty.

"Looks like we're going zombie-huntin' tonight." Dean noted as he peered down into the grave.

"I'm not so sure. No ressurection marks, totally clean coffin, the demon...I don't know, something just...doesn't add up."

"Well if it's no zombie, what is it?"

"Good question."

The sliding of dirt and a yelp from Dean took him by surprise, but it happened slowly enough that his reflexes kicked in in time for him to catch Dean as he leaned too far and slid into the grave.

Sam found himself holding his brother awkwardly before he adjusted him bridal style and shook his head. "Falling for me, Dean? Sorry. You're a little young for me."

"You're a real comedian, Sammy, you know that? Just help me up." he muttered, his face an interesting shade of pink.

Sam chuckled as he hefted his brother up before he climbed out and brushed himself off.

"You're the reason there are so many of those damned, what're they...slash fics. You girl."

"Says the butch." Sam replied with a faint smirk of his own and Dean muttered something about 'annoying little brothers' and headed for the Impala with Sam behind him.

Back in the Impala, yet again, they weren't much closer than when they'd started to solving the case.

"For now, we'll go back to the motel. Do some more research and check with Bobby. If James turns up, we'll grab him."

"And torture his scrawny ass? Tell me we can." Sam snorted slightly in reply and Dean rubbed his stomach.

"First, stop for some burgers or something, dude. I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry." Memories of their previous lunch-time tugged at his brain. He'd really...seen things differently, watching little Dean while an adult himself as opposed to just with the hero-worshipping eyes of a little brother.

"Well _someone_ neglected to feed me and tried to keep me locked up-"

"About that..." Sam's tone held a bit of chastisement.

"Sam, if you try and lecture me now, I will punch you." Dean warned.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Jerk."

"Bitch."

But Sam went through a drive-through anyway, and a contented Dean munched down a pair of burgers with relish.

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**Dorky place to end, but I was rushing. XD I wanted to finish this chap before I leave for work...which was supposed to have been three minutes ago...but anyway! Yay! What could this monster be? We're coming closer to the end! I think. XD And surprise faces! And there was supposed to be a villain-scene in here but I don't have time. XD So next time. More shameless brother fluff though. XD I adore you people! *shower of cookies and hugs*~**


	15. The Sweetest Sickness of the Heart

**Dun dun dun! Before I forget, BigChillQueen (is that a Ben 10 name, by the way? Because I love that show!) XD Anyway! It's set after S6, although how this is accomplished-you won't find out till the end. John is dead, and Sam knew that, but he didn't want to have to explain that to little Dean, hence saying he was off on a hunt. I don't recall mentioning his age, but if I did and it was wrong, I wouldn't be surprised. Things related to numbers are not my forte, I'm a words kind of girl. XD Branch, you made me warm and fuzzy inside with your review, so thank you as always! D-you have numbers in your name and as we've established, I have no talent for them so I'll just call you D, XD Your review was stellartastic and I kind of sort of want to utterly glomp you. So thank you! Illucida, please feel free call me 'Witchy', XD that's my name in the Gaia/Fan communities and such. XD *feels odd being referred to by her screenname* It's mine, I love it, but yes. It's all...screennamey. XD BWAH! Thank you for the skinny! I adore you as always! XD I'm so excited for Tuesday/Wed. I have that Wed off, and I get S6 delivered on Tues, so...you can guess how I'll be spending my day off. XD **

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"Your plan failed, Juliana." the voice that spoke was male, and heavily displeased.

"...It did not go as planned, but we aren't finished yet. They'll stay to solve their little case. They're wonderfully predictable that way."

"The wish failed."

"On it's current subject, but there may be a better way...wishes can be transferred, as long as the one who made the wish is of the same blood."

The level of displeasure in the tone became almost palpable and a hand snaked out to grip Juliana's throat. "I do not like this game you play."

Juliana gasped before she wrenched away and glared. "Don't forget! I owe you nothing! I serve you of my own accord!"

The man before her stepped from the shadows, but he wore a black cowl over his face. "And don't forget, _Erinyes_, what is at stake here."

Juliana's expression of anger didn't ease, but she inclined her head. "I understand." and with that, she disappeared, not before her counterpart had done the same.

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"I can't get an answer." Sam finally said with a frown after several attempts to dial some of Bobby's various numbers. Dean was seated on the edge of the bed as he watched Sam with a frown of his own.

"Well that's not good." Dean noted, partially to himself as he began reasoning out the possible causes for that. All of which equaled to nothing good, as stated.

"We're on our own for now, I guess." Sam took a seat at the table and pulled out his laptop to aim for some more research. He wasn't convinced that it was a zombie, but he wasn't certain that it wasn't either. And furthermore, he was still uncertain as to the role the demon played in all of this. If it hadn't claimed James' soul, what was the angle? And to have been so careless with it's blood around Sam of all people, and James, his behavior-

"Earth to Sam, come in Sammy, hellllooo?" Dean had hopped off the bed to stand before Sam, and he waved a hand in front of the other's face.

Sam was startled before he batted Dean's hand away. "I was thinking." he muttered, still somewhat distracted before he eyed Dean. "It looks like finding James should be our priority, we'll check his house for any signs of a resurrection attempt but...I mean, other than her not being in it, her grave looked undisturbed."

"Which means zip in favor of it bein' a zombie." Dean finished. "So maybe some freaky demon trick?"

"Maybe, but why? You said it yourself, James isn't exactly prime material. And the way he acted."

Dean's small body stiffened slightly, almost imperceptibly, but Sam knew his brother too well to miss it. He knew that Dean was thinking about the scenario, about the blood Sam had been offered and had nearly taken. And he _had_ nearly taken it, despite everything, just to help Dean. But since he knew his brother as well as he did, he knew that Dean might well rather be strangled than let Sam near so much as a lick of demon blood. "Yeah. Weird crap." Dean finally said and rather than look at Sam, he fixed his gaze on the laptop and the couple of websites Sam had already pulled up. "Find anything?"

Sam wanted to say something, but what could he say? 'Sorry' would only piss Dean off, in fact, talking in general about it would. Dean had promised to work on it, but he knew better than to push, particularly an issue like this. So he settled for- "Nothing. It all points to zombie."

"Great." Dean muttered. "We'll check James' place early tomorrow then. Any luck, the little weasel will have gone back by then." And going early was marginally closer to being as good as the cover of night than say, any other non-nighttime part of the day.

Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat and it was Dean's turn to take note of Sam's hesitant expression and behavior. Dean's eyes narrowed. "Sam?"

"...Dean, I know you're not gonna like this-"

"-Then don't say it." Dean growled.

Sam sighed. "Maybe it's best you stay here."

"The Hell I will! I'm me again, Sammy!"

"Well...mentally. But physically is another story and that's not something we can work with right now. If demons are involved, we have to be careful."

"Exactly! So I should be watching your back." Dean said firmly.

"If you come, I'll only be watching yours, Dean, and before you get pissy-you'd do the same. Hell, you're still like that and I'm _not_ a kid, physically or otherwise." The opposite, actually, but now wasn't the time to jab at Dean's lesser height.

Dean's jaw clenched. "It's not up for argument, Sam. I'm coming." he dared the other to say otherwise.

Sam stared at his stubborn brother and quickly reviewed his options. If he man-handled Dean and locked him up, aside from the fact that Dean would throttle him merrily, he'd be in danger if anything did manage to get to him. On the other hand, if he took Dean along, the other would be even more likely to get hurt. So it might be worth his brother's enmity to tie him up...but spending the whole night arguing about it wasn't going to help either. So Sam feigned reluctance and rubbed his forehead as though pained. "Fine. But Dean, you have to be careful. No stunts."

"Yeah, sure, got it." Dean looked satisfied, possibly even smug that he'd 'won' their little argument and not at all suspicious. Sam would let him keep thinking that until morning when he decided officially whether he'd be leaving Dean chained up and salted in.

Still a bit crappy that Dean's easy trust was going to be kicked if he did, but that was all part and parcel of keeping his brother [forcibly] safe.

Relieved that he'd dodged that bullet for the moment, he returned his gaze to the websites. "Nothing...nothing...nothing.."

"Jeez, Sammy. You're a lousy excuse for a geek-boy." Dean joked lightly, and Sam shot him a dry look that, if he didn't know better, earned a pout from the eldest Winchester. He leaned against the table, nestled somewhat against Sam as he peered at the screen as well. Didn't have much else to do at the moment.

Sam's gaze shifted from the screen to the boy beside him as he found himself...taking it all in. This kid beside him, this fragile, small, damned _kid_ was Dean. His big brother. His partner. And as he recalled his previous desperation, desperation enough to drink demon blood...he had to wonder if this was something Dean had always felt, looking down at his little brother. "We're gonna fix you. You know that, right?"

Dean turned to look at him in surprise, his small brows furrowed. "Uh...right?" he eyed Sam before he scowled. "Dude. I'm not worried about it, so you don't either, got it?"

"Yeah, because you wouldn't be freaking out if the same thing happened to me." Sam muttered dryly.

Dean scrunched his nose. "I'm a man, Sammy. Us men don't 'freak out'. That's reserved for chicks and, well, you fit in that category so-Ow!" Sam gave in to the urge to pinch his neck again. "Damnit! Do that again and I'll deck you!" Dean rubbed his offended neck with a mild glare, and Sam grinned faintly.

"Little hard to do that now, innit?" Sam queried innocently, and Dean shot him a look of pure venom.

"Just wait, asshole." Dean's words were the promise of vengeance as he stalked off to the bathroom. But in truth, he wasn't very angry-they knew they were at play. And in truth, he _was_ worried.

Strange sensations and flickers of memories passed in and out of his mind, flitting too quickly for him to catch but the faintest notion of them and it eluded him quickly. He assumed that it had to do with his current state. Dean hopped up onto the toilet in order to climb onto the sink and examine himself in the mirror. Freckles galore, he definitely didn't miss _those_. Messy brown hair, but nothin' girly like Sammy's. Same old green eyes. The strange thing was just seeing himself as a kid, to see the boy staring back at him where a man should be. In reality...the kid was almost a stranger, a different life. One before he'd gone to Hell and nearly become a damned demon, one before angels and chaos, one before damned Apocalyspes or whatever the Hell the PC term for multiple world-endings was. Back when his biggest worry was making sure Sammy was safe and Dad came 'home'.

"You stupid sonuvabitch." Dean told his younger reflection. "You got no idea what's ahead." he muttered.

There was a clattering noise from the motel room and Dean jumped down and ran out instantly. "Sammy?"

Sam had slid from the chair onto the ground and knocked over a wooden decoration from the table. He clutched his stomach and appeared to be in pain as Dean rushed to his side and knelt down with a hand on Sam's shoulder.

"Sammy? Sam! What is it?" Dean asked urgently.

"Ugh...my stomach...it just...hurts..." Sam muttered through gritted teeth. One minute, he'd been researching age regression on the sly (although that seemed to only be turning up erotic fiction that he didn't want to touch with a thirty-nine and a half foot pole), and the next he found himself doubled over in pain. His brother's instant concern at his side was comforting, familiar even as vague flashes of a childhood past flashed by, but he was too consumed by his pain to really focus on that.

"Food poisoning or voodoo?" Dean asked bluntly.

"Not sure." Sam managed.

" You need to puke?"

"I..don't think so." Sam groaned as pain assailed him again and he started to curl up a bit.

"Alright, c'mon, up we go." Dean loped an arm around Sam's shoulder and pulled his brother's arm around him to ineffectually attempt to drag him up and onto the bed. "Sammy, bud, you gotta work with me on this." he said through his own set of gritted teeth as he tried in vain to pull the other up.

Sam didn't want to move, but it was stupid to argue and he forced himself to move and stumble heavily onto the bed where he proceeded to curl up again.

Dean watched his brother in concern before he set a small hand against his head. "Damn. You're warm. Rules out food poisoning. I'll check for hex bags, hang tight, Sammy." There hadn't been signs of witches, unless one chose to interpret the demon as such, but that was his first thought when he saw his brother's pain. Thankfully, it was a pretty threadbare motel room and it didn't take but ten minutes to search every nook and cranny from top to bottom, all the while shouting at Sam to keep track of how he was doing.

"You okay, Sam?" he called as he rummaged about the bathroom and even checked the walls in case something had been slipped inside.

"_No_." Sam groaned.

"Not dead. Check." Dean called back, but his own humor was hollow as he genuinely worried. If anything happened to Sam... But soon enough, he couldn't find a hex bag which left the problem of him either missing it, or something else being the cause. He was fairly confident that he hadn't missed anything, and his hunter instincts didn't really give him the 'skeevy witch' vibe. Still, even if he considered witches suspects anyway, Sam seemed to be suffering painfully but not dying, and that wasn't exactly hex-bag protocol.

Dean returned to Sam's side and found that his complexion had paled but for his slightly rosy cheeks, he seemed feverish although his stomach pain appeared to have subsided to a dull ache given that Sam had ceased moaning and curling into the fetal position.

"How ya feelin', Sammy?" he asked as he ran his fingers through the other's hair to feel his head again, and felt a cool sheen of sweat.

"Not great." Sam croaked, more from catching his breath after his rather excruiating pain than any throat-soreness.

"Head, stomach, anything else?" Sam groaned and he spoke sternly. "Sammy."

"...Nauseas...dizzy...body kinda tingles..." Sam mumbled, partially into the blanket he was currently clutching.

Dean nodded to himself as he mentally referenced his knowledge database. Curse or not, he needed to get Sam taken care of as best he could. "I'll be right back, just stay put, Sam, alright?"

"Dean-" Sam shakily sat up, not sure where his brother intended to go all of the sudden but not wanting him off alone. "Dean, wait-" but Dean had already slammed the door shut and gone, and he was reminded of leaving Dean in a similar situation when there really had been a hex bag issue.

Five minutes later, Dean returned with a few bottles of water, some ibuprofen and cold medicine, and a can of soup that he set on the nightstand by Sam.

Sam, less in pain but still out of it from his sudden onset of sickness, eyed the supplies wearily. "Chicken noodle and stars, Dean?"

"Shut up, it's all they had." Dean said, a mutter tinged with worry.

Sam didn't like that. He didn't like being laid out-out of nowhere, in fact-especially when his brother was helpless. "I'm fine, Dean...see? Just gotta-" he started to sit up again and promptly fell back against the bed, his body felt leaden.

"Lay down and stay down." Dean barked, and Sam had a flash of another such time.

_"Dang, your head feels hot...you got a fever." Fourteen-year old Dean noted with a frown. Sam had been unsteady since school, and it seemed to have worsened as they got back to the motel and Sam nearly fell over as he slumped down into a chair at the table. _

_Ten-year old Sam shoved Dean's hand away. "Do not! I'm fine!" Sam protested, but there was a faint, dizzy slur to his words that rather belied them. _

_Dean eyed his brother with a frown. "Uh, __**yeah**__, you do. Get in bed, Sam." he instructed._

_Sam remained stubbornly in his seat. "I'm fine, Dean. I have homework, I'll go to bed later." _

_"What's your problem, dude? Being sick ain't a crime. Just get in bed." he didn't understand Sam's attitude, but his little brother was clearly sick and his protective hackles were thoroughly raised. _

_"No! I'm __**sick**__. Don't say that!" Sam shouted vehemently, and Dean was taken aback by the uncharacteristic behavior. Sam didn't really throw tantrums anymore, in fact, it was almost creepy how grownup-like Sam was sometimes. But despite his words, Sam started to sway in his chair and would have fallen over if Dean hadn't caught him. Sam was really burning up. Fever, chills, dizzy, the whole she-bang. _

_He hefted Sam to his feet and brought the then-struggling boy to the bed and pushed him onto it. Sam started to get up and Dean's voice was a sharp bark, intentionally almost a perfect mimic of John Winchester as he snapped. "__**Lay down and stay down**__." _

_Sam stiffened and looked to his brother with faintly wide eyes before he shirked a bit and reluctantly lowered onto the pillows. "I'm fine, Dean." he mumbled, but just laying on the bed had made him appear even more weary and ill, if possible._

_"What's the deal, buddy? Why are you so anti-sick all the sudden?" _

_"...Dad comes back tomorrow." _

_"Yeah, so?"_

_Sam's lower lip came forward a bit in a faint, troubled pout before he looked away. "He promised." he said softly. _

_And then Dean remembered. The damned fair was in town and John had sworn up and down that he'd take them. Dean couldn't say that he didn't like the idea, but he wasn't exactly waiting with bated breath or counting on it. This was Dad they were talking about. And Sammy? He knew better, but for some reason, here he was-putting his faith in their old man in the worst way. _

_"S'right. So you don't wanna be sick, 'cuz then he won't take you?" Sam nodded mutely in reply and Dean sighed before he nodded. "Alright, here's the deal...you stay in bed and let me take care of you...and tomorrow, if you think you can make it...I'll make sure Dad doesn't notice you're a little sick and we can still go. That work?"_

_Sam's expression brightened. "Promise, Dean?"_

_"The Hell is with you and promises all the sudden, squirt?" Dean asked but he sighed anyway and nodded as he ruffled Sam's hair. "I promise, dummy. Now lay down and I'll make you some soup." _

_Sam smiled. "You're the best, Dean." _

_Dean flushed with pleasure despite himself even as he shrugged nonchalantly. "Yeah, well...you're not so bad...for a squirt." he teased before he headed off to make the soup._

_The next day, their father hadn't arrived and a dejected if less-ill Sam moped around...until Dean pick-pocketed a wallet and took his brother to the fair instead. It wasn't the best fair experience, what with Sam vomiting on the spinning ride and almost passing out on the carosel, and then there was the clown that mistook Sam for a missing kid and tried to 'kidnap' him...but in the end, it turned out alright. _

Sam swallowed hard but complied as he leaned back against the pillows and let his brother fuss over him. It admittedly...felt nice. Dean popped a couple of ibuprofen and cold pills out and passed them to Sam before opening his water and passing him that too. Sam obediently downed them before he settled against the back with a grimace. "I'm gonna make the soup. Stay put or else." Dean warned and Sam smiled weakly as his brother headed off to the little kitchen to warm up the soup.

With a moment to think, he pondered his symptoms and their sudden onset. Something supernatural had to be at work here, but what? Could it be whatever had changed Dean to begin with? And if so...what was the aim? And was it connected to Moira?

Shortly afterwards, a hot bowl of soup was set in his lap as Dean hopped onto the bed beside Sam and watched him carefully. "Still feelin' pretty bad?" Dean asked.

"Not much better." Sam admitted as he toyed with his fork and the soup.

"Eat it." Dean ordered and Sam shot him a lifted brow look that didn't phase Dean as he narrowed his eyes expectantly.

Sam sighed and again obediently ate the soup down till it was almsot empty and then set it aside with a wince as he lay down. "I hate this town." he mumbled.

"You and me both, dude." Dean noted before he set his small hand on Sam's shoulder and rubbed if back and forth.

Sam looked at Dean from the corner of his eyes and just watched him, and Dean caught on and his hand stilled before he withdrew his hand. "This whole 'watching Dean' thing, is kinda gettin' real creepy, pal."

Sam smiled slightly. "Sorry. It's just been awhile since you've taken care of me like this."

Dean paused and very briefly seemed to consider that before he mussed Sam's hair. "Jeez, you girl."

"Again with the self-esteem booster." The pain in his stomach had subsided, as had the worst of his dizziness and nausea. But from the way the room was tilting and his head was spinning, there was still something off and he stayed down.

Dean smiled briefly before Sam winced as a jab of pain shot through his head and Dean felt his head again. It was cool on Sam's brow and he closed his eyes a moment to enjoy the relief. "You're still pretty warm."

Sam yawned. "Feel better though." his eyes opened as he made as if to sit up. "I can-"

"Lay your ass down, is what you can do." Dean said firmly.

"Dean, we don't exactly have a lot of time, if another girl goes missing-"

"I don't like it either, Sammy. But you can't take down a zombie, much less a demon, when you're fetal, dude."

"I'm not-"

"Just shaddup."

"Dean."

"Sam." Dean mocked.

Sam scowled faintly, until he noted the look in Dean's eyes. Past the whole bratty expression, as he was currently tempted to refer to it, he could see that Dean was still worried. And, truth be told, the realization hit him that he really would be hard-pressed not only to take down an 'evil sonuvabitch', but to protect his big brother should something happen. And something always happened. Sam sighed. "Thanks."

"For...?"

"Y'know...watching out for me."

"Dude, are you like stuck in chick-flick mode or somethin-" he trailed off as he saw Sam lift a brow and stare at him expectantly. "You're, uh, welcome?" he finished, recalling that he had agreed to be more...available emotionally. Why had he agreed again? Ah well, at least it was only a thanks and not some sort of touchy-feely discussion.

"See, Dean? Was that so hard?"

"Yes." came Dean's automatic reply and Sam chuckled as he playfully reached his hand up to ruffle Dean's hair.

"You're pouting, dude."

"Am not."

"You so are."

"I am not! Men don't pout!"

"Apparently age-regressed men do."

"Go to sleep!"

"Smooth."

"Sammy." Dean groaned.

Sam chuckled before he scooted over a bit in the bed. "If I'm sleeping, you are too."

"Who came up with that lame ass rule?"

"Me. Deal with it."

"Someone has to keep researching, I'll just-"

"So you can freeze my computer with busty asian beauties again? No thanks, man."

"Fine, I'll find a book-" Sam started to sit up. "Hey!"

"If you're researching, then I gotta too." Sam swayed dangerously but fixed his brother with an even look, or at least, it would be if there didn't seem to be two Deans moving back and forth without actually moving.

"Stubborn brat." Dean growled.

"Pot calling kettle." Sam replied as he plopped back down, satisfied that he would, in fact, get his way on this.

Dean ground his teeth a moment before he grabbed a pillow. "Fine, I'll sleep. Happy?" he started to turn away when Sam's large hand closed around his currently small wrist. Sam didn't have time to get a word out before Dean realized what he wanted. "Dude. We are not cuddling again. I don't care how sick you are, no pedo-crap tonight."

And there it was, the little bastard. A faintly reproachful twist of the lips, a faint slump of the shoulder, and those big, damned puppy-dog-looking eyes.

"Son of a bitch." Dean said under his breath before he sighed wearily. "Whatever, just keep the Care Bear crap to a minimum, got it?"

Sam tried not to grin at his success as Dean crawled into bed beside him. He waited until the other was settled to toss the blanket over him. They were silent a moment, Dean's back to Sam until Sam coughed and Dean rolled over to examine his brother carefully. "Sammy?"

"I'm alright." he hastened to reassure the other and Dean eyed him a moment more before he nodded.

"If you need anything, let me know." Dean said before he clicked off the light and settled back into bed.

Sam smiled in the darkness before he slipped his arm around Dean and pulled the other tight against him, and he felt Dean squirm in his grasp.

"What the Hell! I told you-"

"C'mon, Dean, it's a onde-in-a-lifetime thing, having my big brother like this. " he tried to reason.

Dean squirmed a bit more before he let those words hit him and sighed in defeat. 'Big brother' almost never failed to win him over. "Once-in-a-lifetime, my ass."

Sam chuckled lightly as he felt his brother's small warmth against him. It was comforting and enabled him to keep an eye on his brother, so to speak, even while sleeping. He wondered vaguely if Dean thought the same. "Hey, Dean?"

"Mm." Despite his complaints, Dean had been rather tired after all, because Sam could tell he was already passing out.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." came Dean's easy if mumbled reply.

An improvement, in Sam's opinion and he smiled to himself as he rested his chin on his brother's head and felt Dean sigh against his neck before he relented and slid a small arm around Sam's waist and nestled against him. "G'night, Sammy."

Those words and the soft tone warmed Sam and relieved his pains more than anything, although the 'cuddling' and nursing were close seconds. "Night, Dean." And damned if he didn't almost finish it with a certain three-word-phrase, but at the risk of Dean socking him and recoiling, he was happy to take what he did have.

...

Sunlight streamed in from the top of the window and Dean yawned as he stretched out and felt warmth against him. Memories of the prior night flooded back to him and he cracked his eyes open as instinct to make sure that Sam was still alright kicked in.

As he did so, Sam beside him shifted as he did and mumbled groggily, in a familiar but long unheard voice. "Dean?"

Dean realized two things very quickly. His age had been restored, much to his relief, although the clothes he was wearing were rendered torn and virtually useless on his current form [and he'd liked that damned ACDC shirt too!]. But at his side, his brother...Dean's green eyes widened and if it hadn't just happened to him, he might not have believed what he was seeing.

A child version of Sam lay waking up beside him.

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**My shameless fluffery continues. XD On the one hand, I do like some of the ideas I've had with this, but on the other, it's an absolute far-cry from the original de-aging and adventuring I'd planned. Such as...more brotherly bonding and taking little Dean out to do...stuff that wasn't hunting. And Cas and Bobby would have been in it. But I'm really OCD about trying to stick to the current-most storyline. XD So I'm a little bummed that I had to bring little Sam in now, but I kinda backed myself into a corner on this one. But that's alright. I got to throw in a sick scene. And I still intend to rock socks off with this. Possibly. Hopefully. XD And I can always throw in some bonus chapters. Like what happened when Dean took sick-ish Sammy to the amusement park. Weechesters and Cas/Bobby. Or something. I dunno. Bonus chapters can be cracky as I want. XDD Maybe I'll write a spin-off sequel with de-aging madness, but it's not something I've planned on. I digress. I do have some pretty angsty-awesome stuff for Sam planned, not necessarily...as cute as brotherly adventuring, but it'll definitely involve brotherly-ness and evil. XD And I haven't fully decided Sam's age yet. It'd kinda make sense if he turned ten too, which is still a decent age of being both a kid and somewhat mature, but Sam is like...overly mature for his age, which makes me want to make him a little younger, but then too young and it's more childish than I really wanted...like...how's he gonna understand all the crap Dean has to explain and so on? He'll be 8, 9, or 10. XD **


	16. Where Heroes Never Die

**Sorry I took so long to post, business at one job was so slow they shut down for a few days so I took time off from Walmart as well and went out of state to visit relatives. And I've been procrastinating. A lot. But anyway. XD By the by, Sam's hard to navigate. We've seen his wee wee self, all goobery and adorable. And we've seen his ten and up self, which is wayyy too smart for a kid his age, and serious, and somewhat of a cynic. With some cuteness mixed in. Gah! Well. Here goes. XD**

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Two things stood out in Dean Winchester's mind when he awoke to find his age-regressed brother beside him. The first was that he noted that he was in fact, mostly naked due to his clothes being torn in his re-growth. And second, from the sudden, horrified look on Sam's face, Dean reasoned that Sam's body [now about ten] wasn't the only thing about him that had regressed.

"Sammy-" Dean started, before the boy leapt from the bed and prepared to move away when he tripped over his own clothes, now far too large for him.

"W-What the..?"

Dean, without giving it much thought, quickly clambered over the bed to Sam and he jerked the other up by the shoulder. "Sam, listen to me-"

"Agh! Let go! Dad! Dean!" The boy took one look at Dean's nude form and panicked, quite misunderstanding and extremely confused. "Dean!"

Dean managed to derive some small satisfaction from the fact that he was the one that Sam called for twice, but the situation itself left much to be desired. He snatched a blanket from the bed and quickly wrapped it around his waist and held it with one-hand as he took a step towards the frightened boy.

"Sammy-"

"Dean!" Sam called out again as he stumbled backwards in an attempt to get away from the unfamiliar man, his efforts hindered by his clothes.

"Sam-"

Sam scrambled to get up and Dean cursed before he turned up the volume on his voice, as it were, and gave his best impression of John Winchester.

"Samuel Winchester, you _sit your ass down_." he growled. Yeah, it was a trump card all right.

Sam stiffened as though he'd been struck and tilted his gaze to the man with wide eyes. "How'd-"

"Listen, Sammy. This is gonna be hard to believe, but I'm Dean."

Sam's expression went from stunned and confused to a flatline before his eyes narrowed. "You think I'm stupid? Where's Dean? Did you take him? If you hurt my big brother, I'll-"

Dean let out a choked laugh. Part of him was actually almost overjoyed to hear that protective bit, but it didn't change the situation. "Sammy." he knelt down before the other, careful to keep hold of the blanket on his waist. Sam took a half-step back in his oversized clothes and his eyes flitted about the room to find a weapon. "Hey! Eyes front!" Dean snapped and Sam's eyes shot towards him. "Quit trying to find a way to gank me and listen to me. _Look_ at me. You ever seen these beautiful greens anywhere else?" he pointed to his eyes. "It's hard to explain, but until...all of about eight hours ago, you weren't a kid. I don't know how, but you got shrunk, dude. And I am Dean. I'm your brother, Sammy."

"Bullshit." Sam spat, deciding that the situation merited the word, but there was a mixture of curiosity and hesitation in his gaze as he studied Dean, who seemed amused by his choice of word, as if trying to divine the truth of things.

"Your name is Samuel Winchester, but I call you 'Sammy'. Our Dad's a hunter. John Winchester. Your favorite cereal is Lucky Charms. Clowns scare the Hell out of you. I would know, since I had to hold your crying ass that time the clown thought you were that missing kid and gave you nightmares for a week..."

Sam's eyes widened. "I never told anyone else..."

Dean nodded. "Neither did I, Sammy." he said, almost gently in reply.

Sam stared at Dean for a long moment as two years of his father's militanistic hunter training warred with his...brotherly sense, as it were. He took a hesitant step closer and peered into Dean's eyes, who obligingly pulled the skin under one eye down to allow Sam a better look.

"See? Eyes this fine are one-of-a-kind. Trust me."

"...Then..._Christo_." Sam recalled their father saying that it would make a demon flinch, and when Dean's expression didn't change, he bit his lower lip. "You got anything silver?" Sam knew that silver hurt quite a few baddies.

Dean sighed, seeing where this was going. "Yup. Silver. Iron. Fire. Stuff to take heads off. Guns to shoot stuff with. You name it, I got it. All tucked away in my baby. The Impala. She's outside, if you wanna take a look."

Sam blinked and his gaze edged towards the window in surprise and then back to Dean as if he expected some sort of trickery.

"Dude. I'm kinda naked here. If you wanna 'test' me, fine, but can I put some clothes on without you trying somethin' stupid?"

Sam seemed to only just remember that, and his own wardrobe malfunction and he gave a shaky nod.

Dean made short work of the affair, throwing on boxers, a shirt and pants, before going for his shoes as well with no small amount of satisfaction. He flexed his fist briefly, just to revel in the sensation of being himself again before he turned his gaze onto the boy watching his every move, analyzing him, thinking.

"You still wanna cut me, Sammy?" Dean felt that he was taking this decidedly well, as was Sam-for all that he was still mistrusting. He supposed that it had something to do with the fact that he'd been in the same position not long ago.

Sam didn't reply though, he was occupied by staring at Dean's arm where the burned-in handprints of Castiel remained.

Castiel. Something about it tugged at his memory...wait, didn't he-

"What are those?"

Explaining angels and Hell to a kid who still wasn't sure Dean was really Dean? Probably not the best idea. "Got 'em on a hunt." he muttered finally before he sat down on the edge of the bed and regarded Sam. "Dad's journal's on the table there. Check out the picture inside." He'd snatch older Sam's idea on this one.

Sam eyed 'Dean' warily, and he didn't seem fully appeased about the wounds, but his gaze flitted to the table anyway and sure enough. "Dad's journal!" he recognized it from the brief times he'd glimpsed it after Dean had pulled the curtains back for him, as it were. He cast one more hesitant glance at 'Dean' before he padded over and rifled through it before he found the 'picture' in question. His pants slid off during the transition, but his shirt swamped and covered his small body. He recognized the Impala, and their older looking father, he recognized the man beside them as the one claiming to be Dean...and the other...was that...

"That big guy...is that..."

"The Sasquatch is you. How a runt like you ended up being giant-sized, I don't know. It just ain't fair." Dean drawled in complaint. He was acting somewhat complacent, but internally, he was mildly panicked. He didn't know what was going on, or how this had come to pass, or how to fix it, and having a small, helpless Sam did nothing to ease his nerves. Almost helpless, anyway. Sam might be able to face a fully grown human man in a fight, honestly, but supernatural baddies? Which was-more likely than not-what they'd run into...

That was another, unnerving matter entirely.

"So...you're really Dean?"

"Yup."

Sam bit his lower lip a moment as he stared at Dean in thought. And then he nodded a little. "Fine...let's say I believe you...how'd I end up like this?"

"Dunno." Sam frowned and he continued. "Look, we were working a case. Then I blacked out, which was when I was shrunk. I came to yesterday, still stuck in a damned kid's body. We went to bed, I woke up big, and you were a midget. That about cover it? We don't know what happened, and the case was kinda a bigger deal at the moment."

Sam digested that information before he asked. "What's the case?"

Dean sighed a bit as he rose to head for his bag. Sam tensed and Dean made a show of pulling out a flask which he took a healthy gulp from before Sam's frown deepened.

"If you are Dean, you can't drink. Dad would kick your butt."

"Dude. I'm legal. Trust me." Dean took another deliberate swig and continued before Sam could interject. "We thought it might be a zombie but signs are a little shaky for it. Got a bunch of chicks disappearing and leaving behind some folded clothes. Suspect number one is an ex of the first victim, about ten years ago but he ran yesterday after a little demon-busting."

Sam's eyes widened. "Demon-busting? We fought a demon?"

"Fought a demon and kicked it's ass." Dean corrected with a faint smirk until he noted Sam's apparent alarm. "We do it all the time." he said, intending to be reassuring but Sam just looked more peturbed.

"So where's Dad?"

Dean had been expecting that question, thanks to his own time as a youth and thanks to that, he had an answer ready. "On a hunt. Can't reach him on phone, you know how he is. We're on our own right now, got some help from 'Uncle' Bobby though, you remember him, right?"

"Kinda." Sam said after a moment's hesitation. Mostly he remembered a man who reeked of alcohol and was the only man he'd ever seen who could treat John Winchester like a 'damned idjit', but he did recall staying at Singer Salvage for a couple of weeks once when Pastor Jim had been away.

As far as Dean, truth be told, despite his blunt attitude, he was internally panicking. This kid, this damned freaking _kid_ was Sam. _His_ Sam. Sammy. The one before all the worst of the crap had invaded his nightmares and he'd been thrust in and out of their messed-up world.

"So...we okay?"

Sam hesitated and then said. "Superman is the coolest."

Dean's brow furrowed in a brief second of confusion before he smirked. "Batman all the way. Loser." he understood what Sam was trying to gauge, and he could tell from the way that most of the tension released from the boy's posture that he'd answered 'correctly'. Just as younger Dean would have, and in a way that a creature probably wouldn't have thought to even with Dean's memories.

"Yeah. We're okay." Sam said as he hesitated and then scooted closer to Dean until he was standing right in front of the other, staring at him while biting his lower lip in thought. Finally, after a moment, he lifted his hand and brushed it through Dean's hair before he lowered his hand to Dean's chest and pressed against it with a thoughtful expression.

Dean's smirk widened. "Yeah, that's right. You get tall, but I get sexy." he gloated.

"Nice to see you're still full of it." Sam muttered as he lowered his hand, his curiosity and slight fascination momentarily satisfied. "It's just...hard to take in..."

Dean had been a bit miffed by the initial response, his little brother had always been too damned smart. But his expression softened slightly and he hesitated before he gave in to the urge to ruffle Sam's hair lightly. The way he'd used to. Before Sammy had gone all...trying to be the big man on campus. "We'll fix it, dude. Promise." Bad enough he'd been shrunk before, now Dean was talking like a kid again, damnit. But this thoughtful, woeful, puzzled little Sammy before him tugged at his heartstrings in a way he didn't think possible anymore.

Sam's lips curved into a faint smile as he lifted his hand and hesitantly closed his smaller fingers around Dean's wrist. He seemed still a bit put off by Dean's older form, but being the tender age of ten, Dean was still his big brother-his hero. And still a bit shaky on the whole situation, but he was going with his gut instinct: the one that said this was his big brother, and his big brother would take care of things. "Thanks, Dean."

And damned if Dean wasn't liking it a little more than he guessed he should.

"Yeah, yeah. You're welcome, squirt." Yeah, he definitely enjoyed getting to say _that_.

"You're calling me the squirt?" Sam retorted as he waved the picture in his hand and Dean pushed his brother away in response as he lifted.

"Well, looks like first thing is clothes." he reached over to the shopping bag he'd gotten yesterday and tossed it at Sam. "There's a few things in there that were for me yesterday. You're a little smaller than me at that age, but close enough." Dean shrugged.

Sam poked around the bag with a faint frown. "These clothes are kinda..."

"Lame? Yeah. And you picked them." Dean smirked when Sam stiffened faintly.

"I picked out your clothes...?" There was a definite tease there, and pleased as Dean was that Sam was so quickly falling into sync with him...

"Shut up, Sam."

...

Dean couldn't help but stare a bit at the boy across from him who'd taken to navigating the laptop with ease Dean found familiar in Sam, while he munched quietly on a sandwich. He'd gotten dressed and checked out their father's journal a bit more, and Dean had explained away the fact that it was so out-of-date by the fact that John had given it to them permanently. He'd also explained more about the case they were on, not so much about their lives yet, though. Sam didn't seem wary of Dean, nor awkward, but nor was he exactly sticking close to Dean either, content to research away. Dean got the feeling that Sam believed pretty firmly that he was Dean, but he still wasn't comfortable with the situation.

"...Dean?"

Dean blinked, startled out of his thoughts. "Huh?"

"Um...you're kinda staring at me.."

"Was not." Dean replied childishly, starting to get why Sam had stared so much.

Sam's brow furrowed. "Right." There was a brief, now-awkward silence before Sam tilted the laptop to face Dean. "There's all kinds of stuff on snatchings...but mostly it's faeries and aliens and as far as I know, they're not real...and from what you've said, I guess it's not a zombie...so...really..."

"We got nothing."

"Yeah."

Dean sighed as he ran a hand through his hair and reviewed their options. "Guess we gotta find James. He's our only real lead." Dean had filled Sam in on a few of the finer details. Something occurred to him then though as he eyed Sam. "On second thought...you'd better stay put. Salt the doors and windows, and-"

"No way!" Sam protested. "You're not going alone!"

"Not my first rodeo, Sammy, trust me." And to think, just last night he and Sam had been having this argument in reverse.

"Dean..." A flicker of concern finally appeared in the boy's expression. He was worried after all.

Dean knew he shouldn't-but he looked over and damned if those puppy eyes weren't in full force. He groaned to himself before he leaned forward in his seat to set his hand on Sam's head and ruffle the messy hair softly. "I'll be careful alone, man. But if you're with me, I won't be. I'll be too focused on you, you klutz." he said affectionately before he pulled away and coughed to clear up any chick-flick germs. "Besides, I need you to research for me. You know I ain't good with that crap. Can you do that for me, Sammy?" he was trying to distract the other and placate him with a mission.

Sam frowned at his brother, not really buying it. "...I guess so..." he muttered. It was all happening a bit quickly. Waking up in this weird situation, his big brother all...super big, and now he was supposed to stay alone while his brother went hunting? Dad would be pissed, he was sure...

"Gimme a sec, I gotta grab a few things from the trunk." Dean announced as he rose and Sam followed him to the door anyway.

Dean glanced down at the wiry boy looking back up at him with those round eyes troubled and he sighed as he set his hand on Sam's head-which, by the way, felt great-and once again ruffled the hair. Sam pushed his hand away, but there was no real force to it, he was just pouting a bit. "Sammy...I'll be back before you know it."

"Dad always lied like that too." Sam said lowly and this time he ducked his head away from Dean's hand and looked away. "It's fine. I'd just get in your way, right?"

Dean winced at the mention of their father. If Sam only knew... "Don't be like that. I'm just looking out for you." he muttered.

Sam's expression wasn't pleased, and he seemed skeptical, but Dean could still see the worry in his eyes and he sighed as he knelt down in front of the other and set a hand on Sam's small shoulder. Sam avoided his gaze and he shook the other lightly. "Look at me. Hey, look at me." Sam's gaze reluctantly met his and he said firmly. "I'm gonna be fine, Sammy. And we'll fix this thing, together, just like you promised."

Sam blinked. "I promised?"

"Hell yeah. You were a real girl about it too, I thought you might cry-ow!" Sam had socked his shoulder and he rubbed it in mock-pain.

"You're such a brat, Sammy." 'Bitch' hadn't been the word of choice until Sam was about twelve or so.

"Yeah? And you're a big jerk." Sam countered and Dean grinned faintly despite himself as he looked at his stubborn little brother before him.

Dean, a bit reluctantly-if he was being honest with himself-rose and headed out the door, to be met with his second stunning surprise of the morning.

Etched into the glass of the driver's side window was the word 'COLD' and there were webby cracks that wound up from the words. Like it had been frozen and cracked that way.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean seethed as he stormed over to the window, wincing at the feel of the scratched-in lettering. But more than that, it _felt_ cold. What the Hell were they dealing with?

"Dean...what-"

"Get inside." Dean snapped and Sam bristled.

"Dean-"

"Get inside _now_." This was no John Winchester impression. This was pure 'get-your-scrawny-ass-inside-before-I-kick-it-there-Dean'. It was a big brother tone that brooked no argument and Sam's eyes widened before he quickly scooted back inside to watch Dean with an anxious expression from the doorway.

Dean gave a cautious glance around as he tried to gauge whether or not they were in current danger. But things seemed...calm enough, and his hunter's sense-so to speak-wasn't tingling.

His big brother protective senses, however, were at an astonishing high.

Dean quickly made his way to the trunk where he yanked out a few supplies and stormed back in, passing a silent and faintly wide-eyed Sam. This was a whole new Dean to him. A little scary, even.

"Listen up, Sam." Dean growled as he began situating his supplies. "Change of plans. You're coming with me. I'm going to drop you off at Uncle Bobby's and finish this case myself."

"_What_? But, Dean...you can't-"

"-Don't argue with me, Sammy." Dean growled, and Sam's hesistance started to be replaced by a bit of indignation and worry. Something freaky was going on with their ages, there was something kidnapping chicks, and there had been a friggen demon in town. He wasn't about to take any chances. As soon as Sam was safetly with Bobby, he could take care of the case. And hopefully there would be no more 'surprises' the next time that he woke up.

Something punched his side and he turned to look down at a frowning Sam in surprise.

"Okay...look...I get that I don't...get what's going on...but you can't just leave me and do this alone! That's now how it works!"

"Trust me. I did 'alone' for a long time. I'll be fine."

Sam frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, man. Nothing." No use in explaining that Sam had left them.

"Dean...why are you acting like this?"

"Like what?"

"...Like...like we're not even brothers..."

Dean froze and his green eyes slid to his troubled-looking little brother. If he was ten like he looked, then the Dean in his memories was fourteen. And Dean supposed that, back then...he'd just been...different. The Dean of back then would have holed up with Sam and called Dad. He'd have had an eye on Sam every second of every minute, and the pair of them would have...done their best to figure something out. They had each other's backs.

Dean sighed as set his hand on Sam's shoulder. Damnit, he didn't do chick-flick! But this little Sam was making it all kinds of hards to remember that, and everything was happening so damned fast. It hadn't even been all that long since they'd woken up to this mess. One thing he knew, this was the Sammy that relied on him, that still looked up to his big brother like he was some kind of hero...and that sort of...he'd missed that. "Don't you say that, Sammy. Ya hear me? Nothing's changed, dude. I'm still your big brother. I'm just more of a badass than I used to be, that's all." Sam didn't look convinced and he fought against the desire to groan and instead added. "Hey, have I ever lied to you?"

Sam lifted a brow that clearly said, _do you really want me to answer that_?

"Fair enough. Alright, look." Dean plopped down in a chair and tugged Sam closer by his small wrist where he regarded the other seriously. "I don't know what the Hell's going on. But normally, I don't work a case without you watching my back, and me watching yours. We're partners. And you are one seriously bad ass partner, bro. But sometimes a hunter's gotta work alone and while you're like this-I do. I won't risk you getting hurt, Sam. Okay? And if you ever tell anyone we had this conversation-I will deny it."

Sam laughed a bit despite himself before he nodded slowly. He understood what Dean was saying, he really did, but that didn't make it any better. Sam was silent a moment before he asked. "Am I really bad ass?" Sam seemed to be enjoying making use of the situation to throw out a few curse words.

Dean grinned at the other's question and ruffled his hair, and Sam playfully pushed his hand away. "For a pain in the ass little brother? Yeah, you're pretty cool."

Sam seemed pleased by the information, and indeed, there may have been a faint flush of pleasure on his cheeks. But Dean could tell that he was still troubled and truth be told, so was he.

Dean shot his brother as reassuring a look as he could manage before he turned his back on his little brother to whip out his own phone. He clicked Bobby's number and listened impatiently as it rang...and rang...and rang. When he reached a voicemail, he barked. "Bobby, answer your damn phone. It's important." he hung up abruptly and considered what it might mean that Bobby still hadn't answered, and earlier the phones had been on the fritz. What the Hell was going on here?

"Do you think he's in trouble?" Sam asked as he slid into a chair and watched his brother carefully.

"I'd like to say 'no', but knowing our luck? Hell yes." Dean fought a groan as he rubbed his face and tried to reason out the best plan of action. Should he drop Sam off, even if Bobby were home? If they switched ages again, Dean was screwed...Whatever was going on, he might need backup, but it wasn't like Sam could really provide it. The kid was tough, but this wasn't gonna be an easy hunt and he'd already had one damn demon trying to give him blood. Or, well, the human...which...how the Hell had he known that about Sam to begin with...unless...

Dean's first thought was get Sam to Bobby's panic room, but how the Hell was he gonna walk away and leave his _kid_ brother in there? But if he was right and the demon had manipulated that somehow, if the goal had been to get Sam drink blood...then there was a whole different ball game being played.

Dean looked to Sam, who was watching him intently, and he fought to keep calm as he spoke. "Alright, first things first, we're gonna test my baby."

"Huh?"

"Something dug it's nasty ass claws into my baby, we're gonna see if we can figure out what. Think you can help?"

Sam's expression flashed between relief and something like anticipation. He'd been worried by the tense vibes his brother had been giving off, and still worried about the threat of being left while his brother battled...demons and who knows what else alone. Plus, it was great that his big brother was asking him for help, even if he probably didn't need it.

"Yeah, sure thing, Dean." Sam hopped down to join his brother at his side, and he paused when he felt Dean's fingers run through his hair lightly.

"This is the worst damn time for this." Sam wasn't sure if he meant Sam's transformation, or what he was currently doing. "But...I'll protect you, alright? I am definitely still your big brother. So get used to it. Brat."

Sam's expression relaxed as he pinched Dean's arm playfully. "Thanks a lot, jerk." his tone was sarcastic, but his words were not and the boy was finally smiling a bit as he and Dean headed outside to test the Impala.

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**Especially for how long it took, this is kinda...lame. But I wanted to get it posted so, I stopped here. And must run to work...now! ;-; And I can't promise complete continuity because I went back and forth to this story...a lot. Sorry it took so long, hopefully the next updates will be a bit speedier. And...we're progressing! XD To what...we shall see. Feel free to leave me verbal hugs and such, because they brighten my soul. And if you wanna smack me for my lateness, I will forgive you. XD By the way...S7 is INTENSE! I wanted to cry when Cas' trenchcoat came up. Gah. He better come back. And Gabe and Balthazar too. And if they bring back Cas in another vessel, I'ma get annoyed. Mischa=win. And did anyone else think that the dude playing Lucifer went from...eh...to...friggen pretty damn awesome? First Azazel and now this...I feel so evil. But I loves me some Winchesters most, so there. [John and Bobby are pretty nifty too, John didn't get enough airtime] XD -Witchy~**


	17. Painful Necessity

**I've taken long again...For which, I am most sincerely sorry. ;-; But here is another chapter! And we're getting closer to the finale! Ish. XD Happy Almost-Halloween, m'dears! ...*some time later* Does any one else feel like CRYING THEIR EYES OUT after Sammy leaves? At least the teaser showed them back together. I was angsting. I'm still angsting. GAH! Poor Dean, and if he tips that bottle back one more time, so help me...I feel like it doesn't affect him much though, if at all, so his drinking seems a little...just pointless. I dunno, could be wrong. XD ;-; I'm still gonna cry though. XD~  
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Dean sighed heavily as he brushed his fingertips across the Impala's driver side window. "My poor baby, clawed by some evil son of a bitch." he said sorrowfully.

Sam had always known John to take very good care of his car, and Dean to regard it with something like reverence, but this just seemed a little creepy. "It's just a car, Dean..."

Dean shot a glare down at Sam. "_She_ is a very sensitive lady, Sam. This beauty is a queen, y'gotta take of her."

Sam wondered if his brother had gone a little crazy over the years, because he seemed to be in love with his car...but there were worse things, he supposed. "Right..." the boy muttered as he stepped closer to peer at the marks.

Dean returned to being serious as he brushed his fingers against the glass again. "Something carved the inside of the window, and then it just...cracked, like it got too cold."

"So what do you think did it?"

"Honestly? No friggen clue." Dean pulled out a little tool he'd snatched from the duffel bag, and he pressed a few buttons before he held it up to the glass.

Sam eyed the device curiously. "What's that?"

"EMF." Dean replied with a frown as the meter spiked, showing definite ghost-traces. "Electro-magnetic-frequency. Basically, it measures ghost-waves."

"Where'd you get it?"

Dean glanced down at Sam and grinned faintly. "I made it."

Sam's eyes widened. "You _made_ it?"

"Yup, didn't take that long either." Dean said, pleased to see Sam showing a little proper appreciation for his mechanical genius.

Indeed, young Sam seemed impressed and then he glanced back at the window. "So if it's blinking like that...does that mean a ghost did it?"

Dean's grin faded as he pocketed his device. "Don't know many ghosts that scratch like that, but could be." As he'd discovered from his time as a ghost [amongst numerous fights with them] it wasn't impossible for ghosts to affect the physical realm. But it had to be damned hard to do _that_ to his window as a ghost.

"So what do we do now?"

"_We_ get _you _to Bobby's." If he could get a hold of the hunter. It was strange, Bobby not answering should have triggered all kinds of alarms, but his hunter's sense wasn't tingling-so to speak.

Sam's nose scrunched. "I should stay with you, Dean."

"Sammy." Dean's voice was a growl. "We already talked about this."

"Well, we can talk about it again." Sam said, a bit sullenly as the now ten-year old crossed his arms a bit. "You're not supposed to hunt alone. Dad would freak."

"I told you, me and you hunt alone all the time-"

"Me and you." Sam emphasized that phrase.

"And I hunted alone for a long ass time too, so can it, short-stack."

Sam's brow furrowed at that. "Hunted alone for a long time...where was I?"

There it was, one of those things that Dean did _not _want to discuss. "You were...busy."

"With what."

"Stuff."

"What stuff?"

"You stuff."

"What's that mean?"

"It means, 'shut up, Sam'."

"You can't tell me to shut up." Sam said as he crossed his arms in earnest. Intelligent beyond his years or not, Sam was still [at the moment] a child.

"Like Hell I can't." Dean retorted, not exactly the pinnacle of maturity himself.

Sam's eyes narrowed. "I wanna know, Dean. How come I wasn't with you?"

_Because you abandoned the family to take Bullshit 101? Because you finally -got out-. Because you could have been something more than a damned hunter. Because I wasn't going to ruin your happiness even if it killed me. _

Dean didn't think that any of the above would be appreciated or understood, so he settled for shaking his head. "Leave it, Sam." he growled as he turned away. But Sam just marched in front of him and glared up at him.

"You're hiding something." Sam accused. "Tell me."

Dean chose to ignore his little brother and move past him as he began inspecting the Impala in case she had any other marks on her. But there was Sam, clenching a small fist around his jacket and determined to have an answer.

Sam could tell his big brother was keeping something from him. Bad enough all this crazy stuff was happening, but he wanted to know what happened that Sam hadn't been at his big brother's side the way he should be. The way he _wanted_ to be. Dean's partner and equal, able to protect Dean and not just be defended by him. Ten or not, Sam had seen the dangers of a hunter's life in the way they lived, and the way their father eventually came home bruised and battered, and buried in a bottle. Sam was determined to keep that from Dean, who seemed all-too eager to be just like their father, even as he cared for Sam in a way that John never had time to.

So if Sam hadn't been there for Dean: he wanted to know _why_.

Dean wasn't looking at him, his gaze was over the roof of the Impala and on nothing in particular. Sam could tell he was thinking, and that he was stressed because his jaw was clenched and he was just...tense. He could always read his big brother, even now that he was..._really _big. Sam pressed closer and this time as he moved in front of Dean, he grabbed onto the sleeve of Dean's jacket and held it a bit. He and John were about the only people who were allowed to just touch Dean like that. It was only with them, and a few people like Pastor Jim and Caleb, that Dean wasn't on the defensive and ever really smiled. "Dean..." Sam spoke softly this time. Being gentle usually won Dean over easy, the 'puppy eyes' Dean called them. "If I wasn't there...I wanna know why..."

Dean had stiffened at first when Sam grabbed him. Once upon a time, Sam's assessment had been right, and it held true still that Sam could pretty much get away with invading Dean's personal space however he liked. But Dean wasn't used to the little gestures anymore, a clingy little brother who needed physical reassurance and affection, at least once in a while. Dean's green eyes slowly slid down to Sam's patient, waiting brown ones and he could see the moment that he'd won when Dean cringed lightly. Dean's large hand moved a bit, and he hesitated before he closed his hand around Sam's small wrist, Sam's hand still holding onto his jacket. "School."

Sam blinked. "Huh?"

Dean spoke gruffly. "You left to go to school. College. Become a lawyer. You didn't see me for...four years." But Dean had seen Sam a couple of times, when John and he had driven to check up on the school, and Dean had driven alone a few times. It had killed him, it really had. The night Sam walked out was one of the worst of his life and it had made things with John tense. Which was probably part of why Dean had gotten to start going solo. But Dean had ached in a way he hadn't known he could. Sam's absence was crushing, it was like part of himself had just up and left and he just had this big ass hole gnawing at him. He wouldn't have described it that way or said it aloud, but he knew he missed Sam. He'd missed his little brother. And he'd felt betrayed even as part of him tried to be happy that Sam could finally be happy, safe, and have his little slice of 'normal' that he'd always seemed to want.

Sam's brown eyes widened as he stared up at Dean. "I...what?"

The boy looked so damned surprised, Dean almost wanted to laugh. He might have, if there wasn't a thick chunk of bitterness stuck in his throat. This little Sam couldn't imagine leaving, not being with them, and Dean knew the kid well enough to know that at least part of it was some misplaced idea that he needed to protect Dean. But Sam later...that was another story. His best damned memories involved anything _but_ the Winchester family.

Dean couldn't blame him though, and he couldn't be too bitter. Dean had sold his soul for Sam, but in a roundabout way, Sam had sold his to save the world-and by extension-Dean. He hadn't sold his soul, per se, but he'd wound up in Hell anyway, tortured for a damned century because Dean had failed to protect his little brother. He'd had to give in to the big 'plan' that was supposedly the only plan left after knocking the prize fight off the rails. One sacrifice after another. That was the Winchester way.

Dean's voice softened. "You went to school. Had a nice little life. Hot blonde girlfriend. Nerd-class grades."

"For four years...so...I came back?"

Dean's mouth tightened grimly. "Yeah, Sammy. You came back."

Sam looked relieved, and Dean was simply relieved that his not-quite-lie had earned him a reprieve from more questions. Explaining Yellow-Eyes was not on his to-do list for the day. "So...we're okay?" Sam ventured to ask.

Dean's hand landed on Sam's head as he ruffled the other's hair lightly, an old habit of sorts that he was quickly re-learning. "Course we are, brat."

Sam smiled, and damned if it didn't make a funny little warm feeling blossom in Dean's chest. "Good. Jerk."

Dean didn't realize he was smiling until the sensation of his lips being turned upwards caught his attention, and he coughed as he pulled his hand away. "So. Ghost. I guess." he frowned at the marks on the window. "Slash zombie. Slash demon. What ever happened to a good old salt-and-burn? Is that too much to ask?"

Sam peered thoughtfully at the marks before he looked back up at Dean. "What do you think it means? 'Cold'."

"No clue, I don't speak crazy-ghost. Maybe it's just really cold in ghost-land. Or zombieland. Or...demonland." There had definitely been a demon. It was still up in the air on whether or not a ghost or zombie was involved, or Hell, some new baddie entirely that would account for all the mixed up crap. Dean had a feeling his best bet was with James, but he wouldn't be all that surprised if the weasel had already tried to high-tail it out of the state by this point. Then again, maybe he'd been stupid enough to stick around or assume that the Winchesters wouldn't. Either way worked, as long as he could get his hands on the prick and make him explain what the Hell was going on around here.

Sam tried to wrap his head around everything. The last thing he really remembered was Dean promising to treat him to some ice cream if he ended up getting an A on his test. The one he remembered staying up and studying for even though Dean said it was stupid to be so worked up over a test. But Sam liked doing well on his tests, he liked learning, and as much as he liked the idea of being Dean's partner...well, he had to admit...that whole getting to go to school thing sounded pretty cool too...being normal for a little while...

But there were other concerns right now. Like the fact that he was apparently shrunk. And the fact that his brother was in some kind of trouble with a monster he couldn't identify. Not to mention, Dean wanted to send him off to Uncle Bobby's instead of letting him stay and try to help. Also, Sam didn't like that his Dad wasn't around, he didn't like that one bit. He was pretty sure that Dean was hiding something more from him, but he wasn't gonna press his luck when he'd already weaseled out of Dean what he had and was aiming for more. Sam was determined not to get left at Bobby's while Dean hunted alone.

"Sammy?"

Sam blinked. Dean was staring down at him with a frown, and he realized that he must have spaced out a bit. "Sorry. Just thinking."

"Yeah? Well don't think too hard." Dean flicked Sam's head with a faint smirk. "It's not good for kids."

Sam scowled up at his big brother, who now seemed like a giant, and swatted his hand away. "I am not a kid. I'm ten, Dean. Or, uh, twenty-eight." he corrected himself as he recalled how old Dean had claimed him to be.

"Not at the moment, kiddo." Dean all but chimed, and Sam might have thought his brother sounded a bit happy about that, but there was no way. There was something like a grin tugging suspiciously at the edges of his big brother's lips though, and he found that a bit troubling, but that train of thought was interrupted as Dean spoke a bit more seriously. "How you doin'?"

"Huh?"

"It's a lot to handle." he knew that from personal experience.

Sam considered that and then shrugged lightly. "I'm...okay with it. Anyway, I know we'll fix it. You'll make sure."

Dean paused with his mouth half-open like he wanted to say something, but then he thought the better of it and inclined his head. "Damn straight." He glanced around then and motioned for the motel room. "Alright, show's over, back inside."

Once there, Dean once again reviewed his options. Taking Sam to Bobby seemed wise, but only on the most basic level. That would be assuming that Bobby was home and well. And that Sam [or Dean for that matter] didn't go changing ages again. Also that whatever was screwing with them didn't try to screw them some other way. Bobby's was also a long ways off, and that meant another girl could go missing, he might miss something important. But if he kept Sam with him, then he was putting the other at risk. How the Hell had their father coped with having two kids, when he couldn't even think past one?

Then again, John had been able to leave Sam with Dean. If he left to pursue the case, Sam would be alone. And way-too-brainy or not, Sam the kid was still just that: a kid. When he wasn't supposed to be. Dean couldn't just leave him.

"Dean...now you're the one thinking too hard." Sam complained as he tugged his brother's shirt lightly. Dean had been looking over the available weapons, not just spacing out, but Sam could still practically see the wheels turning in Dean's head. "What about you? How are you doing? ...It must be weird for you, me getting...little."

"Understatement. Trust me." Dean muttered as his gaze slid to Sam and then back to the weapons. "I'll get over it. Long as we fix you soon."

"That's something else...how can you fix me if you send me to Bobby's?" Sam pointed out.

Dean stilled as he considered that and then fought a groan. He hadn't even thought of that. If there was a cure, correction, there was a cure and when they found it, he'd need Sam to be around to give it to. Wasting time in giving it to him wouldn't be smart. Green eyes narrowed down on innocent brown ones, but Dean knew Sam knew he'd won the moment the boy smirked faintly. "Alright...fine. I won't send you to Bobby's-" Sam's expression brightened. "-_But_, you do what I say. Got it?"

"Sure, Dean." Sam said easily, but Dean wasn't convinced. Sam had, for the most part, always done as John and Dean had [told] asked, but it wasn't a one-hundred percent thing. He needed to know that he could count on Sam to stay out of things even if they looked a little bad. The last thing he needed, or wanted, was for Sam to get hurt.

"I mean it, Sammy." Dean growled.

Sam paused and then nodded. "Alright. I got it."

Dean eyed his little brother a moment more before he supposed he'd have to leave it at that. The matter of Sam's whereabouts were covered-for the moment. Sam would have to accompany him, leaving him alone at the motel wasn't a thriller idea-for all that Sam had thought it would be to leave Dean there in his position. That being taken care of, the best place to go was James' house. "We'll grab breakfast and g-o..." Dean missed a beat on his last word as something occurred to him. Sam couldn't exactly play Fed, and bringing a kid along...Sam had explained Dean away as a necessity, but as far as breaking and entering [as he suspected he may have to do] a kid was going to look suspicious. And if anyone they'd seen previously saw them...like Angela, for example, she was going to wonder why there was a new Fed and new kid in tow, now that Sam and Dean had been reversed. Trust Sam to leave him the crap deal, the bra-_bitch_.

"Okay. New plan. You're going to duck down in the backseat."

"What?"

"I'm supposed to be a Fed, I can't be dragging a kid around. You wait in the back seat while I check out James' house."

"But-"

"Sammy." Dean's eyes narrowed. "I told you what you gotta do."

Sam gazed at his brother a bit irritably before he muttered. "What you say...I _know_, but I don't want-"

"Sam. Not a discussion."

Sam huffed and then relented. "Fine. I'll stay in the back seat. But I should get a gun at least."

Dean didn't disagree with that. He shuffled around and found a small hand gun and loaded a few shots into it before he clicked it on safety and slid it into his pocket. "I'll give it to you at the house." he quickly began organizing his supplies to be ready to go. He'd be bringing rock salt ammo and a silver knife just in case-since he had little to no idea of what he was dealing with.

Once everything was packed up, he glanced around once and then down at Sam. He didn't really want to bring the other, but there didn't seem to be an alternative. "You gonna be okay?"

"I'm fine, Dean. Really." Sam seemed a bit miffed at first still, but he softened as he brushed his knuckles against Dean's in a gesture of comfort and affection. "But thanks." he added softly. Despite all that had apparently happened, Dean was still his big brother. Sam had no doubts or reservations that he would be fixed and things would turn out all right. Dean wouldn't let anything happen to him, he took care of Sam. For reasons he still hadn't quite figured out, Dean seemed to have gotten very...awkward about their closeness, he wasn't sure how else to describe it. But all the same, Dean's hand snaked out to close around Sam's lightly, almost hesitantly, and he brushed his thumb against Sam's palm.

"We're gonna fix this, Sammy."

Sam smiled faintly as his fingers curled around his brother's. "I know." And he did.

Sam believed in Dean, after all.

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**Not terribly long or profound, but some mild fluff and some character-insight. Or something. XD Bwah. Sorry for the long wait. I've given myself too many stories for my wall-like attention span. I digress. Enjoy! And know that there is planned some very life-threatening, angsty-ness. And fluff. And platonic brotherly love. And an SPN cameo. Or something. XD By the by, Happy Halloween, m'dears! Feel free to tell me all about your costumes and Halloween fun. XD -is wanting to use a oujia board in a cemetery- [this'll be the third year of that tradition XD] I also wanna trick-or-treat...but I need to go with my little sister or something so people can't say I'm too old. [Like 19 is too old ;-; pssh]. I digress again. Yay for finishing chapters before work. XD Thank you for the faves, alerts, and reviews, they brighten my soul. Branch, Illucida, I adore you endlessly for your particular loyalty and awesomeness. D, Fire, Big Chill, Angel, Caymus, and the rest of you...you rock my socks so hard core. XD Happy Halloween! Love, Witchy~ XD**


	18. A Previous Action Warrants Remorse

**Whoot! I am on a roll tonight! It's been a very productive day off. XD Alright then...let's see here. This chapter will get the action back on course a bit, muwaha! Somewhat short though it is. XD Branch, Illucida, Angel, you all rock. So totally rockingly. And I adore you all. XD And thank you to other readers/favers/alerters/and such. Leave me verbal hugs? Because Dean and Sam aren't the only ones who needs 'em. XD~**

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Dean relished in being able to drive his girl again, even if he was more than a little furious every time he had to glance over and see his window marred by some ghostly prick. The radio played a slow Zeppelin song, turned down low, and he found himself drawn to looking at his little brother every chance he got.

It was friggin' weird, seeing Sam that way again. And what was weirder?

He wasn't all that bothered by it.

Sure, he wanted it fixed as soon as possible, and he was worried, and all kinds of paranoid about something happening while Sam was like things and things were uncertain. But he couldn't deny that that look Sam kept giving him, like Dean was some kind of hero, well-he'd missed that. And he couldn't deny that not having to look _up_ at his _little_ brother was definitely a plus. "You hangin' in there, kid?" Dean finally asked.

Sam had been staring out the window pretty much the whole drive, and he guessed there were a few things that looked pretty different to him some seventeen or so years later. Brown eyes, partially covered by a mess of hair turned to regard Dean. "I'm okay. You?"

"Just peachy." Dean replied easily, and he hummed along vaguely to the Zeppelin tune before he realized that Sam was still watching him. "Somethin' on your mind?" Well that was a change. Asking Sam what was on his mind-which was usually right up there with poking his eyes out-was the first-well, technically second-damned question out of his mouth now.

"It's just kinda weird, seeing you so old." Sam admitted before he looked a bit sheepish as Dean's easy-going look became a mild scowl and he shot Sam a dark glare. "Uh...older?" he supplied helpfully and Dean huffed.

"I'm not old, damnit! Thirty-two is _not_ old."

"No, you're right, my bad." Sam placated Dean, who rolled his eyes and shook his head. Sam tilted his head to look back out the window before he asked softly. "Are you sure Dad's okay?"

Dean's grip on the wheel tightened, and it took a lot to just say evenly. "Uh, yeah? Why?"

"You didn't seem sure earlier." Sam noted with his gaze still carefully fixed out the window.

Dean watched his brother from the corner of his eyes, uncertain of whether or not he was playing into a little trap of sorts. Sam had been a devious kid when he'd wanted to be, and if Sam had noted something Dean had overlooked, caught him in his lie somehow...it wouldn't be a good thing, that was damned well for sure.

"I'm sure." Dean said firmly, and tension in Sam's shoulders he hadn't even realized was there eased. He felt like a dick, lying to his brother like that, but there wasn't a choice. Sam didn't need to go through their father's death twice, least of all while playing the kid-angle, as it were. But what bugged him most was lying when Sam seemed to have such blind faith in him, just believe him-no arguments or funny looks-he trusted Dean.

And breaking that trust freakin' hurt.

All too soon, or not soon enough, Dean arrived at the residence of one James Holliway. A dinky little place, girly-in his opinion, but this was Quiet Oaks, the not-Westland side, so that was pretty typical of every house they'd passed. It was Stepford Hell. White fences and neatly mowed lawns and all that cliche crap Dean couldn't stand.

Sam had wanted it once, though, and maybe now that he was ten years old...did some part of him want it again? Sam at ten had never mentioned it to Dean, but that didn't mean that he hadn't thought of it, sharp as he was.

But he brushed the thought off, because it didn't matter. Whatever Sam thought when he was ten-it was over and passed. This brief stint as a child again would be over as soon as Dean killed the evil sonuvabitch behind it, and they all went 'home' happy.

Dean parked the Impala and adjusted the badge in his pocket just in case. He was dressed in a suit as befitted a 'federal agent', and he jerked a thumb towards the backseat. "Showtime, Sammy."

Sam scrunched his nose and Dean saw an argument dancing on Sam's lips. "We had a deal." Dean reminded him.

Sam's argument settled into a faint, displeased sort of pout before he inclined his head and obliged as he climbed into the backseat.

"Hey! Watch the seats, man!" Dean didn't want scuff marks on the interior.

Sam rolled his eyes, although Dean couldn't see, and he laid down in the space between the up front seats and the back seats. "Gun?"

Dean hesitated and then slipped a hand into his back pocket, where he produced a gun and passed it to Sam. "Be careful with it." Dean growled.

Sam lifted a brow. "I know how to use a gun, Dean." he reminded his older brother.

"Yeah, well...be careful anyway." Sam had always been good with a gun, had been a sharp hunter-in-training from the get-go, but he was still Dean's little brother and that meant that all bets were off. He was going to worry regardless.

Dean eyed Sam for a moment, and the boy stared back up at him almost curiously. Finally, he muttered. "Just sit tight, Sammy. I'll make it quick." he hesitated and then brushed his fingers against the edges of Sam's bangs. "You girl." he added, to which Sam simply shook his head and snorted, just to ensure that the words and soft gesture hadn't diminished his manliness any as he prepared himself and started to pull out.

Sam's hand on his wrist stopped him and the boy sat up a bit to regard him seriously. "You be careful too, Dean." he said solemnly.

Dean blinked, and was a bit surprised when his heart did a funny flip-flop in his suddenly pleasantly warm chest, and he coughed as he inclined his head. "Y-Yeah. Sure thing, Sammy." he clamped his hand over Sam's briefly, and then gave a firm nod and pulled away. It reminded him of when he'd ended up in Heaven and watched that memory of him and Sam on Fourth of July. Sam and Dean were brothers, always, but when Sam had been a kid...they'd just been...different. Innocent, as much as a couple of hunter's kids could be. And the blossoming ache for that kind of relationship with Sam again, something he'd long since gotten over, damned if it wasn't more than a little pressing. He couldn't dwell on it though, or get used to the warm fuzzies, 'cause the fact was: it wasn't reality.

The whole situation was crap, but he'd have to suck it up and deal with it.

With one last glance at the Impala, he made his way to the front door, knocked twice, waited a minute or so, and picked the lock as he headed in.

The first thing that hit him was the smell. Something strong, nasty and harsh, and he recognized it. What was it...ah, formaldehyde.

Dirt littered the ground, fresh and black as it was still slightly wet. "The Hell...?" he muttered as he flicked on a light to see better. The small house was a mess, the same mud-although most of it dried-littered the place and there was a plate of uneaten food that actually had a couple of flies on it.

"I repeat. What the Hell?" he muttered to himself as he stepped over some discarded trash and knelt down along side of the door. Sure enough, he found traces of sulfur. "Playing with demons, Jim? Now that's gonna get you killed, if I don't kill your demon-summoning ass first." he glanced back with a faint smirk, before he remembered that Sam wasn't there to roll his eyes at Dean's little jokes. No, Sam was currently a _kid_ scrunched in the backseat of his car.

Dean sighed as he rose and dusted himself off a bit, before he decided to take a look around for the cause of that crap-smell. "If I were a demon-summoning douchebag, where would I keep the goodies?" he murmured as he made his way down the hall. The bathroom passed inspection, as far as hunters went. As far as cleaning went? He wondered if the dude even knew what a bar of soap was. An unoccupied bedroom he guessed was a guest room, and then a messy room littered with skin-mags, weird-ass books, and the occasional bottle of goop that he didn't want to even think about touching. James' bedroom, he guessed. But even in his closet, there was no sign of an alter or anything similar.

Dean shivered suddenly as he felt a tingle run down his spine, and could have sworn he felt fingers ghost across his back, pardon the pun. But there was no one there, ghostly or otherwise. He did note, however, there was a thicker trail of the wet mud in the hall and he realized that a camouflaged door to a basement was there. Typical tidy house, matching doors to the frigging wallpaper.

He let his hand fall on the gun in his back pocket, ready for the possibility of anything as he flicked on the basement light switch and headed down the stairs.

To a sight that horrified even him.

Several body parts lined the room, stuck in watery buckets, or cases, or Hell-anything that would hold a limb. The smell of formaldehyde hit him like a ton of bricks and he gagged as he squinted against his now burning, watery eyes. He froze suddenly as he thought he heard a light _thump _upstairs, but as he held his breath and waited, he heard nothing else. Worse, when he let himself breathe again, he filled his lungs with that scent and just about choked, hacking and mildly nauseas. Dean knew he might find a clue if he looked around, but he couldn't breathe, could hardly see for all that his eyes were stinging too much to stay open, and he saw no sign of any demons, or James. There was a small altar in the corner, and he made note of that as he staggered back up the stairs as he coughed and rubbed at his eyes with his sleeve. "S-son of a bitch..." he wheezed.

There was some kind of body-part doll factory downstairs, a demonic altar, sulfur, crazy ass books...something was going on, but when he added all the pieces together, it was pretty much a two-plus-two-equals-fish situation. It didn't make sense.

Dean coughed again and turned around, only to find himself face to face with several guns pointed right at him.

Shit.

"Hands behind your back! Get down!" A policeman barked, and Dean winced, quickly reviewed his options, and begrudgingly got down with his hands behind his head as he laid on his stomach. He knew the damned drill. A policewoman and her partner headed down to the basement, and he soon enough heard them coughing as well.

"Alfred Simons." the alias he'd used in the last town, the one where he'd accidentally sort of blown that one little building up. Hold a grudge, much? "You're under arrest. Anything you say can, and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney."

Because that was going to help when the policewoman came back upstairs with her discovery.

Dean found himself hand-cuffed and jerked outside with at least one gun still trained on him. His list of crimes had just risen from fleeing from the law, destruction of public property, and maybe a few misdemeanors to possible murder suspect. This was not good, and horrible freaking timing. Sam would laugh in his face, if he were himself, and they were out of this mess. But they weren't, and he cast an anxious glance towards the Impala where a police officer was already searching it. He waited for them to say something about the kid in the back seat when he opened the door, but after a quick search, the officer moved on and Dean's jaw dropped slightly. Where the Hell was his little brother?

Dean quickly scanned the area around the house, the bushes, trees and the like but he saw no sign of a disturbance. If Sam was around and managed to escape, he'd probably gotten farther away rather than risk being caught by the authorities.

Dean was nearly at the cop's car when he saw her. Bruised and battered, wearing a tattered-white dress and torn jeans beneath it, barefoot and with dark circles under her eyes. And then she turned her head as if looking behind her, cast a glance back at Dean, and then disappeared.

_Sammy_. "No! Damnit, look, you gotta let me go!" Dean found himself shoved inside the cop car and as he tried to push back out, the already tense cop in front of him wasted no time in tasering him into unconsciousness. As his vision faded to black, his last thought was-

_Run, Sammy._

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**I was gonna have Sam's POV on everything, but it seemed like a good ending spot right here. XD How's that for bringing action back? Sha zam! Dean's antics caught up with him. You didn't remember he was a wanted man, didja? HA! Okay, enough dorky antics from me. The plot thickens, and we'll soon see a familiar and [much missed?] face and maybe find out a little more about what the Hell's going on here. XD Let's just say, there's gonna be a bright red lollipop.. Dun dun dun! XD I'm annoyed they got the Impala, because now I have to get it back out with their weapons and shnazz in tact...but ah well, can't be helped. I shall manage. XD Meanwhile, Dean misses his Sammy...;-; and the title is kind of a pun on his having a warrant for his arrest... XDD Lurve, Witchy~  
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	19. Always for a Brother

**I know, I know, last chapter wasn't a pulse-pounding thrill ride...but a chapter is a chapter, right? -shirks from Branch- I feel like I failed ;-; *attempts to redeem myself* Thank you for the faves, reviews, and so on and so forth! And thanks for the spelling catch, Illucida! I knew I spelled it wrong, and I told myself 'I'ma spell check that before I post' and then I totally forgot, and would have continued to forget. XD -insert a cookie for your awesomeness here-. Alright, getting closer to bigger events and tying this up! Muwaha! But...now I have to figure out how to do that. Because...I complicated my existence on this one. XD I adore you all endlesslyyy. -Time to get to work- XD~ By the way- in my end author notes there's to be a mention of in-character facebook pages I made for Dean, Sam, and Cas at the end...keep that in mind? XD**

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"Look, just let me use the damn phone and you can drill me sideways, for all I care."

"I don't think you understand the position that you're in. The missing girls, all of those body parts, and you were right at the scene...that doesn't strike you as a little suspicious?"

"Clowns strike me as a little suspicious, that doesn't mean I handcuff 'em." came the sarcastic retort.

"You seem to think that this is a joke."

"Oh, trust me, nothin' funny about it." Dean growled in reply to the officer who had, for the past half hour, been repeating the same old song and dance. And all the while, Sam was who the Hell knew where, with that _thing_. He thought back to her for a moment, the strange lines on her pale, upper arms. The bruised, mottled look of her. "I know my rights. I want my phone call."

"Murder tends to waive those rights."

"Yeah, and whose fingerprints are on those jars, anyway? Sure as Hell ain't mine." Dean gazed coolly on the officer before him, too pissed and worried to play laid-back asshole. "I know my rights, so _give me my friggin' phone call_."

The officer-detective-whatever the Hell he was pursed his lips and then rose. "I'll see what I can do."

"Yeah, you do that." Dean said snarkily, and he watched with gritted teeth as the man left the room. He didn't have any time for this! Sam was in trouble! _ Damnit!_

...

Wait in the car. He was supposed to just wait in the car while his big brother did recon on a house with who knew what in it. They didn't even know what they were hunting, not really, and Dean seemed to forget that Sam could take care of himself pretty well.

He was kind of glad though.

Seeing Dean big had been...intimidating. He just seemed different. More like their father, curt and growl-ey. He didn't smile much, and he didn't laugh, and he kept looking at Sam like he had two heads or something [and that last bit was understandable, given the situation] but it was still...unsettling. The Dean he remembered laughed a lot, and he grinned and smiled, and teased Sam. And it wasn't that he liked getting teased all the time or anything, but it was how they...cared about each other. So when Dean acted like that, it bothered him, it made him worry that maybe Dean wasn't telling the whole truth. Because Dean didn't act like everything was okay with them, and every time he mentioned Dad, Dean just kind of shuttered up. That was familiar, at least, Dean would always close up when something really bothered him, or he'd just pretend it was funny, but Sam knew better.

So that was why he was glad when he realized that even though Dean was...a little grumpy, he was still Sam's big brother.

"_So...we're okay?"_

_Dean smirked faintly at the question as he lifted a hand to Sam's head and ruffled his hair lightly. "Course we are, brat." _

Because despite everything, he could still see Dean was worried about protecting him, and making sure he was taken care of, and just...being Dean. His big brother, albeit grumpier and bigger than he remembered. Sam's biggest concern was the _why_. He didn't know what had changed Dean, or why he smiled so little, and why his eyes were just...not the same. Dean's eyes, but older, sadder. Like Dad's eyes had been.

Sam tried to distract himself with other thoughts. He tried to think about how cool computers and phones had gotten. And he tried to think about what his Dad's reaction would be when he saw Sam-apparently shrunk.

But his thoughts kept going back to Dean and the looks on his face when he asked about Dad. That kind of funny, stricken look on his face when Sam just...talked to him, reached out to him. It made him wonder if he wasn't nice to Dean or something, but how could that be? Dean was his big brother, sure-they teased each other-but they were brothers...it was natural. Dean was still..._Dean_.

Sam would never do anything to really hurt his big brother.

Seconds ticked away into minutes and then ten had gone by, and even with the occasional peek as he peered out the window, he couldn't discern any sign that his brother was inside. Waiting sucked.

And what if something happened to Dean? He needed backup-John had always said a hunter should have some kinda partner, just in case. And sure, John had worked alone a lot-but he hadn't had a choice, and he'd started taking Dean out as soon as he could. Ten or not, Sam wasn't stupid, he'd been training his whole life, practically. And he might see something that Dean missed...

With that logic firmly backing up his plan, he scooched out of the Impala and pocketed the gun. He'd get inside and find a clue Dean had missed, and then he'd definitely change his mind about keeping Sam off the case...

There was a rustle in the bushes beside him and he jumped, before he stiffened and peered at them carefully. Nothing moved, but as he drew his attention from the bushes, he took note of something else:

Cop cars were coming. Fast.

Instinct took driver's seat and Sam was half-way into the woods surrounding the back of the houses before the cop cars had even gotten to the driveway, and he ducked down behind a bush as they pulled up without sirens. They were trying to be stealthy, and that was never a good sign. Sam's eyes flicked from the approaching officers to the house that Dean was, apparently, still inside of. He had no idea they were coming and without revealing himself, he couldn't warn Dean. And he knew better than to let them take him. Cops and kids never ended well...there were all those 'questions'. Like, why he wasn't in school, or why he had a gun, or why his father wasn't around...stuff like that. No, the best thing was to lay low and let someone know what had happened, someone who could help Dean get out. Like that Bobby guy, or maybe Pastor Jim. Heck, maybe he could even reach their Dad...

Sam didn't move as he watched the officers enter and then emerge from a safe, hidden vantage away from the house. He winced as he saw his brother being walked out with guns, and the warm feeling that he got from the fact that the first thing that Dean did was look to the Impala to see where Sam was, was interrupted by Dean's abrupt distress that earned him being tasered into unconsciousness. By that point, Sam had already begun running, lest the cops take a better look around, and he didn't see Dean's frantic look just before he was tasered.

He just knew he had to get help for Dean. Somehow.

...

The door opened and Dean found himself facing a man he didn't recognize as one of the previous dick-wads. He seemed casual, if the fact he was sucking on a friggin' lollipop was any indication. The man smiled at Dean through his sucker, and gave him a little mock-salute as he sat down. And for a moment, he simply stared at Dean expectantly.

Dean could play the staring game, but he was pissed at the moment, and this 'good cop' crap wasn't gonna fly. "Look, I'm sure you're a very nice dick-head. But I got a phone call due me and I want it now."

The man inhaled slowly and tilted his head slightly before he gave Dean a crooked smile. " 'Dick-head'? Really? Is that the best you can do, Winchester?"

Dean's irritated expression faltered before he forced a small grin onto his lips. "Winchester? You callin' me a gun?"

"No. I'm calling you a Winchester. As in, your last name. First name, Dean?" There was a pause and the man continued. "Weren't expecting that so soon? Your fingerprints are all over the Impala. Pretty funny, finding a dead man's fingerprints fresh like that." he man mused with his sucker in the corner of his mouth as he tapped his chin thoughtfully.

Dean's amusement fell as he stared at the crookedly smiling man before him. The prick. Did he think this was funny? "Guess you caught me. Now what?"

"Well..." The man switched sides with his sucker before he replied. "That's kinda up to you, pal. I could let you stay in here, get arrested, get your car impounded, probably charged with murder, that sort of thing...or...you can quit wasting time and get going. Clean-slate of all your transgressions. The recent ones, anyway." The man added.

Dean stared at the man before him. There was some trick here he was missing, something...just funny about the whole thing. "You're gonna just...let me go?"

"Well, yeah, that's what I said, right?" The man pulled his sucker from his lips with a _pop_, the saliva-sticky sucker glittering red and catching something in Dean's memory he couldn't quite put his finger on.

Dean didn't buy it. "Right...and while you're at it, how about you gimme my baby back and we call it even?"

The man tilted his head and seemed to consider it before he inclined his head. "Yeah...I guess it would be a shame to leave that lovely little blackbird all cooped up. Especially when all your goodies are packed up in the trunk, eh?"

Now Dean knew something was up. This was some kind of...what, trick to make him confess or something? But the way he talked...his actions...the damned sucker...why...?

"I know what you're thinking. 'This dude's a dumbass if he thinks I'm gonna tell him anything'. Here's the thing, buddy. I don't need you to say a word. I know you're Dean Winchester. I know why there's a Devil's Trap painted on your trunk. And I know why you go through fake I.D.s like dollar bills in a strip-bar. I also know that little cute little brother of yours is ass-deep in shit, and he could probably use your help. So my question isn't 'why do you have enough weapons to arm a small army', it's 'if I let you go, are you gonna do your job and quit messing around?'. "

"Are you a hunter?" Dean was honestly confused now, and on edge.

"Depends on what you mean by 'hunter'. Am I one of your asinine salt-throwers? Nah. But I do consider myself part of the little 'team' you've got going, so...there's that."

"So you want to let me out...to save Sam?"

"Is there an echo in here, or is it just you repeating everything I say?" the man drawled sarcastically. "Yes, that's the big plan. So whadd'ya say? Clean slate. In exchange, you save Sam, gank the leftovers, and call it a job well-done. How's that sound?"

Dean eyed the man a moment, but he didn't have much to lose this point. He wasn't going to be able to bust out, not soon enough, and Sam needed him. "Sounds like a plan."

"One last thing though, this is your one and only get-out-of-jail-free card. Use it, ya lose it. No _mas_. _ Comprende, amigo_?"

"Uh-"

"No more. Got it, friend?" The man translated himself with a roll of his eyes, and Dean went ahead.

"Got it."

"Lovely."

The man _popped_ his sucker again, and Dean found himself on the side of the road with his keys in his hand and the Impala at his side, not far from James' place. He jerked in surprise as he looked around, and found himself face-to-face with Mr. Lollipop.

"What did you-"

"Is now really the time for an instructional, pal? I'll make this quick. There are nasties out there bigger than demons in this town, and they want Sam-on-a-stick, and they're having a big party for him down by the lake. t's all Greek to me, really. Anyways, like I said, you just used your get-out-of-jail-free card. So I guess what happens now is Fate. Or more of your tendency to kick Fate in the ass and trust me, she's not happy about it." The man chuckled. And then he moved his hand forward quickly and pressed something into Dean's palm.

"Keep it, Dean-o. Never know when you'll have to pay the piper, y'know what I mean?"

Dean's brow furrowed as he glanced down to find a golden coin with some weird insignia on it, and when he looked back up to ask about it...he found that he was alone. The man had disappeared.

Dean-o. He'd heard that name before. From someone else with a tendency to disappear, suck suckers [in both meanings of the words], someone who was _dead_.

"Quiet Oaks my ass..." Dean muttered as he considered the man's words. The lake. They had taken Sam to the lake, whoever _they _were. "I'm comin', Sammy." Dean muttered again, determined as he climbed into the driver's seat and sped off.

He had a party to crash.

...

"Crap!" Sam's voice was agitated as he received yet another message machine. He'd tried Bobby, twice. He'd tried Dean once, just in case. Sam would have tried Pastor Jim, but the number wasn't in his phone for some reason, or Caleb either. So he decided there was no choice, he had to call their Dad. Except that his number wasn't in Sam's phone. Not under 'Dad', or 'John', or any other alias he might have used. But why would that be...?

A rustle sounded in the bushes behind him, just like before, and he jumped as he whirled around and pocketed the cell-phone quickly and reached for the gun shoved into the back of his pants. Sam held his breath and waited, ready.

Another rustle. Sam whipped out his gun and clicked off the safety as he aimed for the bush the noise had come from. "I have a gun." he announced. "So you'd better come out." At worst, it was something that required the use of a gun, at best-it was a stray officer. Either way, he'd be found with a gun, so he may as well be ready for the worst.

But nothing replied, and there was no further rustle from the bush and for a long moment, Sam stared, but as nothing happened-he chalked it up to a critter of some kind and started to lower his gun.

Which was when he felt a clammy, leathery hand on his neck.

Sam reacted on instinct and he jerked away with his gun ready. Only a quick flash of realization stayed his hand from actually shooting as he realized that it was a woman...or...not.

Sam recognized her from the motel as the woman he'd thought he'd seen, but she looked far worse. Before she'd simply been pale, bruised, and battered [as if that were simple], but she had a swollen look about her and her pallor was almost translucent. The clothes were more turn, and there were odd scars in certain spots along her body. Her eyes were bi-colored, and her lips seemed off-angled. He was certain she wasn't human, but not certain enough that he didn't want to risk shooting her. "W-Who are you?" he swallowed hard as his confidence faltered a bit. Being Dean's partner sounded easier when Dean was actually there, and he wasn't facing down...whatever this was.

The woman tilted her head slightly, but she began tilting her head further until it was hung at an awkward, bent-angle and she stared silently down at Sam before her mouth opened and closed without a sound. Her arm lifted sluggishly and she held out her hand towards Sam. He had just long enough to note that her fingernails were thickly crusted with dirt, and her hands were...different. The fingers on her left and right hands were different lengths.

Sam stumbled back and he gripped the gun with both hands. "Stay away from me." he warned. "I'll shoot." he tried not to let his hands tremble as he lifted the gun up in her direction. She had to be Supernatural, but he had to be careful, especially not knowing what she was. His phone rang, but he couldn't answer it at the moment, there was a bigger problem.

The woman continued forward with her neck still bent and her bi-colored eyes unblinking and fixated on Sam.

So Sam reacted on instinct and shot. Once. Twice.

The bullets pounded her chest and she gave an unsteady jerked and paused. A black, viscuous liquid trickled down her chest but it didn't stop her for long as she took another step forward. There was something worse than having to shoot after all.

And that was when shooting didn't work.

...

Dean didn't have any damned clue where a lake was, which meant he was gonna have to stop somewhere and ask. Like he had time for that crap. As it was, he'd found his cell-phone in the passenger seat with a missed call from Sam, to his relief, and attempts to call him back had ended in failure, which made said relief decidedly short-lived. Bobby was a no-show too, and thoughts about what had just happened 'echoed' in his mind.

If he didn't know better, he'd say that smug-ass officer was Gabriel. The freaky, candy-loving, angel-god, that had gotten angel-bladed by his own brother. And it wouldn't be the first time an angel had been restored or anything, but when the Hell had that happened? If Gabriel had been brought back...then, what? He'd just been playing hooky?

Friggin' angels.

Or pagan gods.

Whatever.

...

Sam was running. He didn't have a choice. Bullets had no effect and the woman had just kept coming. But he had begun to realize that he'd started running the wrong way, because instead of coming out in the housing area, he seemed to have gone deeper into the woods. Not a good sign, especially when he couldn't be sure he had all that much daylight left to go by. Stuck in the woods with no light, water, and at least one unknown supernatural baddie?

That was a disaster.

Sam had exchanged his gun for the phone and he frantically clicked up his latest missed call. Dean. _Answer, answer, damnit! Please, Dean, __**answer**__!_

"_Sammy?_" Dean's gruff voice barked from the other end of the phone and he felt his heart flood with relief.

"I'm here! Dean, I got away, I'm in the woods somewhere...there's a woman chasing me." he said, his voice strained as he ran, tried to maneuver through various trees and brush, and talk to Dean.

"_There's a __**what**__?_" Dean's tone was disturbingly like John's even if his words weren't as he growled. "_What do you mean 'woman'? The chick in white? Are you okay? Where in the woods_?"

"I don't know!" Panic laced Sam's tone as he shouted back a quick reply and amended himself. "She's...yes! She's in white. You saw her? I'm fine right now, but I don't know where I am..I was by James' house but I think I ran deeper into the woods-" Sam gasped as he tripped over an exposed root and collided with the ground. Hard.

Blood spurted from his nose a bit and he coughed as he swallowed an unpleasant mixture of blood and mucous.

"_Sammy? Sam? Sam, damnit, answer me!_"

"I-I fell." Sam said loudly as he pushed himself up and fumbled for the phone. "I'm okay." he said as he stumbled back up and ignored the pain in his leg. He glanced behind him and didn't see the woman anywhere. She hadn't looked too fast, so maybe he'd managed to outrun her. "I think she's gone, Dean. I tried to shoot her, but it doesn't work. What do I do?"

Sam's trusting, needy voice was a punch in the gut to Dean. He finally had Sam needing him again, asking for his help, trusting his judgment...and there wasn't a damned thing that he could do. "_Get back to the main road if you can, otherwise hide. I'm on my way, Sammy._"

"O-Okay, got it..." Sam said as he scanned the area for any possible hiding spot while he collected a plan for getting back to the main road. First, he'd have to figure out the right direction, and not run into the woman in white again. "Don't hang up, alright?" he added suddenly, because the thought of being out here without at least that tether to his big brother was more than he was ready to face at the moment. He was alone, the sun was going down, and there was a gun-immune monster of unknown species on the loose.

Sam was terrified, but he was equally certain that Dean would come. Dean always came. Even if John couldn't, Dean would.

"_I won't. How you holdin' up, Sammy?_" Dean noted he'd been having to ask that a lot in the course of the day.

"Just get here soon." was Sam's only reply, soft and faintly thick as he rubbed at his bleeding nose and swallowed past another trickle down his throat.

_Aw, damnit, Sammy..._ So much for a punch in the gut, it was like a friggin' train bowling him over. Sam needed him, _needed _him, and where the Hell was he? Racing out of a mess his own messes had gotten him into. He should have never brought Sam along, or maybe he should have, or damnit...he didn't want anyone else to die, but if saving them meant Sam got hurt...sad to say, but he'd rather save Sam.

He'd always save Sam.

"_I'm on it._" Dean wanted him to keep talking, and he wanted to reassure him, he wanted that slight tremor out of Sam's voice. His little brother was scared, and that _was not_ 'okay'. "_You get good tail, Sammy._"

"W-What?" Sam's surprised stammer into the phone nearly made Dean smile.

"_Chicks, man. They think you're hot stuff. You got this whole 'nerdy-bitch' thing going for you. Real tortured poet crap. Chicks eat it up._"

"Dean.." Sam's voice was strained, like he couldn't quite decide whether to cry or at least reprimand Dean for saying stupid things like that.

"_I know. You're too much of a girl to like girls yet, but don't worry, it'll come, Sammy. No brother of mine misses out on the good stuff._"

Finally, Sam laughed, a short, reluctant chuckle as he braced himself against a tree and decided his best bet might actually be to climb a tree for the time being. "That's the 'good stuff'?"

"_Oh, __**Hell**__ yeah. And beer. Lots and lots of beer._"

"Y'know...I think most big brothers are supposed to tell their little brothers _not_ to do that stuff..." Sam pointed out, amused despite himself, and comforted by his brothers attempts, if only because his brother was attempting. Dean wouldn't try if he didn't care. Dean wouldn't be talking to him still if he didn't want to hear Sam's voice every bit as much as Sam wanted to hear Dean's. They were comforting each other.

"_Yeah? Well, most big brother's ain't awesome like me. In fact. No big brother is as awesome as me. I'm Dean Bad-ass Winchester, remember?_"

"Yeah, Dean." Sam laughed a little. "I remember. You're still a dork.."

"_Dork? The Hell, Sammy?_"

Sam grinned despite himself as he scanned the area quickly, just in case she had caught up, and then examined the tree before him. He could climb it, and then he'd have a better vantage to figure out which way to go, and maybe a better breather. Hopefully she wouldn't think to look for him in a tree, and maybe he could even wait her out then, if she didn't notice him. "Yeah, a big dork, too. But you're _my_ dorky big brother, so it's cool." Sam explained. There was a pause and Sam's heart clenched as he feared that maybe Dean had hung up after all. But then Dean gave a short chuckle of his own.

"_Yeah...damn straight, Sammy. And you're __**my**__ nerdy little brother. Which is...pretty cool. I guess._" Dean added, to keep some of his 'dignity' intact.

Sam smiled. "Thanks, Dean." and he didn't just mean for the statement.

"_No problem, brat. What are awesome big brothers for?_"

Sam's smile started to widen when he found nails digging into his cheeks and around his mouth, as a clammy, cold hand clamped around it. "D'n!" the name was faintly muffled as the phone clattered to the ground and he tried to push her hand away. He'd gotten careless, distracted as he underestimated her.

"_Sammy? Sam!_" the phone buzzed from the ground.

Sam felt the grip on his mouth tighten and he sore he might be bleeding from where her nails dug in when the woman was suddenly jerked back by her hair and she was hurled with unnatural force into a nearby tree where she crumpled like a ragdoll, her body splayed at odd angles. It wasn't right, like it was all hanging on by a thread.

Sam gasped as his mouth was freed and he rubbed it, blood-free, and his brown eyes fell on his 'savior'.

A beautiful woman stood before him, smiling down at him as she offered him a hand. "Hello, Sam. Are you alright?"

"I..."

The woman's smile widened. "Don't be afraid, Sam. I'm here to help you..." she stepped closer and set her hand gently on Sam's cheek. "My name is Juliana."

The phone buzzed from the ground again, and Sam couldn't make out the words, but he shouted-"Dean!" only to wince as the phone was crushed with a sharp jab from the heel of the woman before him.

"I'm afraid that Dean would only get in the way...but don't worry, Sam, we'll fix everything. For now...just sleep, okay?" her voice was soothing and Sam tried to pull away but his vision was growing darker by the moment. Sam felt his knees buckle as he fell, and he was unconscious even before he fell into Juliana's waiting arms.

The woman brushed away some hair from his brow with her smile. "We'll fix everything soon..."

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**There was a lot of stop-and-go writing involved with this chapter, so hopefully it turned out well. Originally, it was going to be Mr. Lollipop Frees Dean and Sam Gets Hi-Jacked by Juliana. But I added in some POV-switching, brotherly fluff [that makes it all more heart-wrenching when he gets snatched ;-;] and Dean is all aching-anyway cause he's got his little brother back and he's lost, and longer interactions with the woman in white. It made for a longer chapter, and hopefully a more interesting one. XD ON ANOTHER NOTE! I worked rather diligently to create facebook pages in-character for Dean, Sam, and Cas. [More to come someday, if these are any kind of decent. XD] I had them all interact with each other, and there's little easter eggs of in-character interactions on their walls and their pictures and such, and I intend to update stati and such in character for them. But I need [desperately want?] page-likers. So...I'd adore you all endlessly even more than I do now if you'd like those pages. AND Comments/Messages/Whatnot will be [as often as possible] responded to in-character. It's all very interactive, so please check it out? Cause it took for-freaking-ever to log in and out and do all their stuff. _ Dean's got Sam and Cas' pages liked-so you can find those there, and his page is facebook dot com slash xbadmoonrisingx You can also find it searching 'Dean Winchester' he's a 'fictional character' and the picture I have for him is a younger one with his amulet, original jacket, and leaned up against the Impala. Even if you don't though, I still adore you all. XD Thanks for your reads/reviews/alerts/faves, they brighten my soul! Lurve, Witchy~ **


	20. The Ferryman of Souls

**I've had at least part of this written for...awhile. But I couldn't think of how I wanted to make it progress properly and then I procastinated and...well, here we are. But let's give this a go! **

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"Son of a _bitch_!" Dean seethed as he surveyed the area.

He'd given Mario Andretti a run for his money as he'd made his way back to James' home. The cop had mentioned something about a lake, but far as he knew, there were three major lakes around the town and he had hoped he'd find something; _anything_ that would give him a clue where Sam was. And what had taken him.

But it was a fat load of bupkis. No sign of blood, nothing disturbed, no odd scents, no sulfur, not a damn thing.

And in some ways, that was far more concerning than if he'd found any of the above.

The lack of clues meant he was just going to have to figure out which lake the 'party' was at, and wing it as far as ganking whatever had taken Sam. One of the lakes was way off on the edge of town, barely a lake at all, and he doubted that would be the place. Which left a lake that somewhat ran through Westland, and a lake tucked away behind Quiet Oaks. Dean contemplated the possibilities as he headed back to his Impala. He had no idea how much time he had to get to Sam while he was still safe, and he couldn't risk driving in circles. The lack of choice in the matter however decided him; and he figured that Westland was his best bet, if only because it was closest.

_Hang in there, Sammy...I'm comin'._

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The pain in Sam's head as he awoke was immense and he squinted against the sharp pain as he focused bleary eyes on his surroundings. Where was he? Everything seemed oddly dark, not to the point that he couldn't see, but...cloaked somehow. And there was a thin layer of fog and the scent of...what was that scent? Something wet and muddled.

Memories came back to him: the forest, a phone call with his big brother, and the woman who'd apparently knocked him unconscious.

"Is the guest of honor finally awake?" a voice crooned.

Sam squinted up towards the one who'd spoken, the smiling woman he recognized as the one who'd taken him earlier. He said nothing and tried to judge who or what she could possibly be, but she didn't seem out of the ordinary aside from having kidnapped him. Sam, with his back against a tree, noted that his hands were tied behind his back.

"What? Cat got your tongue, cutie? Don't worry, we're only here to help." she smiled widely, and Sam was struck by how unnerving the smile was coming from her.

"Who are you?" he finally gave in and asked, "What do you want?" Possibilities raced through his currently young mind, and he was coming up with many blanks. But Dean would be there soon to fix things, wouldn't he?

The woman's smile seemed to widen, almost unnaturally. "As I said, my name is Juliana. And all I want is to help you, Sammy."

"It's Sam." he spat out reflexively. Only Dean got to call him that, and John, on occasion.

"Sam." she agreed as she crouched down beside him. "You see, Sam, you're very special." she brought a hand up to run her fingers through his hair but he tugged his head away. She lowered her hand but seemed unruffled as she continued. "With your help, we can fix things."

Despite himself, Sam responded. "Fix what things?"

Juliana considered the question before she spoke in a solemn tone. "You see, there's a very bad man on the loose. He's gobbled up all kinds of people, and he's going to destroy the whole world."

Sam tried to make sense of her words, and he was a little annoyed by her patronization. He was ten: not stupid. "This man...eats people?"

Juliana nodded. "Swallows them whole and uses their power to make himself stronger...but you can stop him."

"Me?" Sam lifted a brow in disbelief. Honestly, he didn't buy any of what she was selling, but he was stalling for time. As long as he kept talking, then he had longer for Dean to find him and he knew that Dean would come; he always came.

"Oh, yes. Just as soon as your potential is awakened."

Sam officially, mentally declared the woman crazy. "My potential?" he repeated skeptically.

"As the chosen of Azazel and the true vessel of Lucifer. You have powers you haven't begun to realize. And I am going to help you to bring them out."

Sam didn't recognize the name 'Azazel', but he'd heard 'Lucifer' somewhere before...either way, he knew that the words put an ill twist in his stomach. "What are you talking about?"

Juliana sighed. "My dear, hasn't Dean told you _anything_?" Sam's expression scrunched up a bit and she continued. "You're part demon, Sam. That's the real reason Dean's all grown up and you're still so small. He's been trying to protect you all by himself. And now it's your turn to protect him."

Sam choked at her words and then his eyes narrowed. "Like I'd believe that."

"Haven't you ever wondered why you're so different...? Why you never cared for hunting the way Dean and John Winchester did? It's because you're what they hunt, Sam."

"No, that's not... You're lying." Sam was incredibly bright for his age, and his upbringing had gone a long way towards ensuring that he was more mature than boys his age. But at the heart of it, he was still only a child, and the stress of the situation combined with her words agitated him. Sam fidgeted in his place as he tried to piece a way out for himself, but it all came to the same conclusion:_ Dean_.

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Dean had, at speeds far exceeding what was legal, checked all three lakes. His brother had to be at one of them, and it figured it would be the last one. Dean was out of time and out of options, but he'd been there before and pulled off a last-minute victory. His brother's life was on the line, there was no way he could fail, no way he could disappoint that kid.

_"Just get here soon." _

But Dean felt the choking sensation of panic and failure, mingled with desperation, rise up within him as he found the last lake devoid of anyone. Sam wasn't there, he wasn't anywhere, and Dean was out of time. "Sam...damnit, Sam!" he choked the words past his throat as he slammed his fist on the door of the Impala in frustration.

"Oh, it's the boy you want. Such an inconvenience, making me work up here. Hades will be cross, but they'll get what's coming to them... I can take you, but I need payment for passage."

The voice was almost monotone and somewhat nasally, and Dean jerked around to find himself face to face with a black-robed man. His hair was white and spindly, and it clung to the old man's face as if wet. His skin as well was pale with the look of someone who'd been in the bath too long, with his veins showing through. The eyes were the most disconcerting, pale as if he were blind with thin slivers of blue and yellow where his iris and pupil should be.

Dean was on guard instantly as he reached for his demon-knife. "Who are you?" he barked. "Where's Sam?"

The man lifted a white brow as his lip curled a bit to reveal sharp, yellowed teeth. "Who else would I be, stupid? I'm Charon, the ferryman."

"The what?"

Charon's eyes narrowed as he pointed a bony finger over the lake. "I ferry the souls of the dead into the Underworld, for a price...but the fools who took your 'Sam' bound me to the surface in between the worlds. Still...even this world is corrupted also, there are many players in this game." he said, with obvious distaste.

"What does that even mean...forget it..." Dean suddenly came forward and grabbed a fistful of Charon's robe. "Listen up, you're gonna take me to Sam right n-" Pain shot through Dean suddenly and he gasped as it felt as though the breathe had been snatched from his lungs. His face began to turn red as he tried unsuccessfully to breathe as he released Charon and collapsed to the ground. Stars danced before his eyes as his vision darkened and Charon looked over him impassively.

"If you want to cross, you'll pay the toll. Threaten me again, boy, and I won't be so kind." Gnarled fingers raked across Dean's throat then, and suddenly his airways were clear. He gasped and choked for breathe as he clutched his chest and after a moment of wheezing, he rose to regard Charon. Dean wasn't stupid, he had a feeling even the colt would be hard-pressed to work on this 'Charon' character. He didn't seem like a good guy either, but nor did he seem to be willingly working for the enemy.

"Fine." Dean rasped as he shuffled through his pocket for his wallet. "How much do you want?"

Charon rolled his milky eyes. "I don't take your cheap paper. I deal with true coin."

"What the Hell does that mean? I don't have time for this!" Dean shoved his wallet back into his pocket, and was surprised to feel something cold against his skin. He pulled out the golden coin given to him by the odd cop earlier, and he blinked as he recalled his words.

_"Keep it, Dean-o. Never know when you'll have to pay the piper, y'know what I mean?"_

Dean held out the coin to Charon. "What about this?"

Charon smiled then, and there was nothing pleasant about it as he reached his bony fingers forward and plucked the coin from Dean's hand. "A _drachma_. This payment is acceptable, for both the venture in and out. Well then..." Charon waved a hand, and a gateway of swirling blue and black lights appeared at the lake's edge. "Go on in, traveler. But be warned, the world in there is a by-product of an already manufactured world. If you die in there, your soul will never find it's way back."

Dean didn't really understand Charon's meaning about by-products and manufactured worlds, but he wasn't planning on dying or letting Sam die anytime soon. "Got it, thanks...Charon." With that, Dean grabbed his duffel of hunter's goodies from the Impala and locked her up with a quick, "Wait for me, baby," before he headed to the portal and jumped in.

Charon watched with a lifted brow before he glanced at the 'waiting' Impala questioningly. "Strange man, that one..." he murmured.

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**Alright, so a **_**drachma **_**was standard currency in Greece way back when. The souls of the dead were buried with one under their tongues so that they could pay Charon to ferry them across the rivers of the dead to the Underworld. Those without coin became wandering souls forever. Dun dun dun. It's Dean to the rescue for little Sam! And finally, an update. And I used 'bupkis' in writing for the first time ever. XD Verbal hugs bring joy to my life...enjoy! Oh, and Mario Andretti was a famous racecar driver, people use his name as being synonymous with someone driving super fast and whatnot. I think. XD ~Witchy~ **


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